


Ad'ike

by ZoinksSc00b



Series: Atiniir [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives Lives, CT-5385 | Tup Lives, Crack Treated Seriously, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, clone culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 10:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 70,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22968400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoinksSc00b/pseuds/ZoinksSc00b
Summary: Fives remains ignorant of the biochips, unintentionally separating himself from the sinister conspiracy going on behind the scenes. All he knows is that Tup almost died and he does not plan on wasting any more precious time. Fox is not so lucky as he reluctantly finds himself becoming a vital part of Palpatine’s plan.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox/Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo/CT-7567 | Rex, CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555/CT-5385 | Tup, CT-5597 | Jesse/CT-6116 | Kix, Dogma (Star Wars)/CC-1010 | Fox
Series: Atiniir [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793929
Comments: 97
Kudos: 199
Collections: Commander Fox





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr is @zoinksc00b

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just like angst, so if you also like angst...stay?
> 
> My Tumblr is @iputtheaceindisgrace

Rex had been seven, physically fifteen, when the accident happened. He was fresh-faced and recently named. Somehow he still carried some of the innocence and naïveté that would be forfeited as he aged into the war-hardened captain of the Torrent Company.

At this point in his life, all his batchmates were gone: either dead as soon as they were decanted or decommissioned over time. Rex, himself, had nearly been decommissioned just to kick the failure of his batch under the rug. He had a physical deformity, blonde hair, and that plus the incompetence of his vode were good enough reasons for the scientists. Kamino got rid of outliers unless they proved useful and, as Rex saw his brothers vanish one by one, he gladly demonstrated how it would be more of a loss if he was taken care of.

He had been uprooted to a new squad as if nothing had happened. It was almost like he exclusively could recall his batchmates. He didn't want to suffer the loss of anyone else. He tried not to get attached but little could be done; brothers were inherently sociable and desired companionship.

Rex tried to forget what had happened to his batchmates and, when he couldn't, his new squad was always there to offer him solace. A hand on the arm to center him, a shoulder to cry on, or a hug to lean in to were the general methods of consolation in their tight-knit group.

Trick, Jinx, and Gibber. Force, he hadn't seen any of them in years. All of them had been separated when they were shipped out. He hoped that they were still alive and well. He didn’t know what he would do if they weren't.

Trick was a pathological liar with the uncanny ability of never getting decommissioned. Whenever Jinx said something bad was going to happen, everyone listened because Jinx was never wrong. Gibber somehow managed to put his foot in his mouth every time he spoke. Despite their quirks, Rex couldn't have asked for better brothers.

At that age, he had even managed to make a close, life-long friend in one of his older brothers in the command track named Kote and things seemed to finally be looking up for Rex.

The Kaminoans started to assess him more closely as they saw his potential as a leader. Kote had congratulated him on this opportunity by presenting him with a name: Rex. When Kote had informed him what it meant, he had flushed and bashfully said he wasn't worth that.

He was a seven-year-old who was mentally and physically fourteen, a child in every right, but he was convinced that he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Clones weren't supposed to get stressed, but Rex didn't know if he believed that anymore.

However, Rex was still happier than he had been in years, so he missed the warning signs. He had willfully turned a blind eye and he would never forgive himself for that. He often speculated over the What Ifs even though Kix would later advise him to stop because it was "unhealthy" and "stop patronizing me, Rex. Are you the medic?" He knew he could have stopped what had transpired. If only he had paid attention. If only he had been better.

He didn't think much of how one of his squadmates was always pulled aside after combat practice, even when they had something scheduled right after. It was always the same trainer, some random Mandalorian bounty hunter that the Kaminoans had employed, but it wasn't uncommon for favoritism to occur so it didn't set off any red flags. Sometimes they wouldn't see him for a few minutes, but other times he would be gone for hours. He always came back with a vacant stare that was immediately replaced with a cheerful veneer as his brothers huddled around him.

He didn't think much of how disconnected Slim, his fourth squadmate, became after the meetings began: the way he shied away from touches and the permanent vigilance in his eyes that promptly turned robotic when he anticipated he would again be left alone. How he brushed off all the curious glances with the curt response of, "He's just giving me extra tips." He had spoken with a laugh which, now that Rex looked back, seemed forced and hollow. However, all he remembered doing in the moment was nodding his head and chuckling in return. Slim was known for his gangly form that he had received from puberty. It set him apart from his brothers, an early-early bloomer Gibber had jested, and it was how he had earned his name.

Rex, at the time, appreciated that someone was assisting his squadmate, his brother, as everyone knew what would happen to those lagging behind. Rex grasped that better than anyone and he didn't want to surrender any brothers before their time. Not again. Never again.

He didn't think much of how Slim started getting sick, at least, not to the point where he fretted over it being something Slim wouldn't recover from. Clones were immune to most diseases, so no one could fathom what it was. Slim assured them it was nothing serious.

Nothing to alert the Kaminoans about.

The sickness lasted around a month, which was the most worrying thing about it, and there was relief amongst his squad as it concluded. The illness wasn't anything extreme, as Slim had promised, just nausea and vomiting, but even small errors could get a sharp cadet like Slim decommissioned.

He didn't think much of how Slim was always ravenous, always eating. There wasn't much variety in Kamino, but Slim somehow managed to view the ration and protein bars as if there were gourmet.

Rex rationalized this as being another part of puberty because it was a symptom he had learned about from his lackluster Kaminoan Sex Education course. Growing boys and girls needed to eat and clones grew twice as fast, so it appeared to be common sense. Slim was, to be frank, slim and putting on a few additional pounds would probably stop him from blowing over in the wind.

He didn't think much of how Slim had flinched when Gibber had teased that he should leave more food for the rest of them. How, Gibber pointed at Slim's stomach as he quipped and mocked, he would get too fat and slow.

Slim recovered quickly, maybe that's why Rex chose to ignore the initial reaction, and remarked with a, "So you really want to eat more ration bars? You really do have bad taste and not just in women." This had caused the squad to burst out in laughter and Gibber to blush in embarrassment, barely succeeding to shrink as far as he could into the bench where he was seated.

He didn't think much of how Slim seemed to soften as the attention shifted from him to Gibber.

He didn't think much of how pained Slim looked that day: the way he carried himself as if expecting to collapse, the hand that continuously reached to clench the cloth around his abdomen and how he kept biting his lips and fingers till they were raw. He seemed awfully relieved when they were sent back to the barracks, but, then again, everyone was so Rex didn't really notice.

He didn't think much of the gasps of pain that night. They were nothing new, so he instinctively climbed out of his bunk to go inspect on his vode. He had grown used to the routine of soothing night terrors and he assumed this would be no different. As he opened Slim's bunk, the originator of the noise, he was shocked to see that Slim was already awake.

Most likely he had never gone to sleep.

The stifled whimpers of before were louder and while Rex gently sat on the bunk, thank the Force for it being below his, Slim finally recognized his presence. He peered at Rex as though he hoped for help, but dreaded he would acquire none. Tear marks were permanently etched onto his cheeks with more surely to come. His body locked in a fetal position with his arms wrapped so tightly around his stomach it was like he was waiting to implode.

Rex couldn't let his surprise hinder him from supporting his brother, so he reverted to known tactics for when his brothers were sad or injured and hoped it would work.

As he started to whisper to him, Rex was injected with a sense of familiarity. This reminded him too much of when he last spoke to the final member of his batch. The conversation that had taken place mere minutes before they were inevitably split up.

"Vod, tell me what's wrong. What can I do?" Rex reassuringly put a hand on Slim's shoulder, worried that anything more would shatter him like glass. This was too much like a final goodbye.

He did think much of the subsequent blubber and prattle that followed his question, so much like his batchmate. The fear of rejection and disgust leaking from his brother's voice as he spoke of the horrors of his time spent with the bounty hunter. The months of seclusion that Rex had failed to detect and, now, Slim was suffering as a consequence of Rex's ignorance. Rex was the unofficial ori'vod of their group, even though they were all technically the same age, and he had failed to protect his vod'ika. Would he be destined to always disappoint his brothers in their times of need?

That wasn't even the worst part because as Slim continued it finally clicked in Rex's head. The sickness, the food, everything began to make sense as Slim spoke in a hushed, hurried tone. Rex didn't want to believe what he was hearing, but the sureness that Slim had in his own words convinced him otherwise. He sounded hysterical, but Rex recognized the difference between a truth and a lie.

Besides, how could he deny the hours he spent by Slim's side: the neverending squeeze of his hand, the shirt that he had provided for Slim so he wouldn't bite his tongue off or wake anyone up, and the child now resting in Slim's arms, nestling into the warmth of her parent. Despite all odds, Slim had somehow given birth to a lovely baby girl.

During those final moments, Slim looked at peace. He was completely infatuated with the daughter he had carried in secret all those months. For a few seconds, he forgot the why and how and just soaked in the fact that he had created something innocent. Rex was satisfied that he was able to take the burden off of Slim even if so shortly.

Slim had silently thanked him as he returned the shirt that had been used as a gag. Rex briskly put it back on. He would certainly be washing that later.

Slim had rejected his efforts to swaddle the baby in Rex's shirt, instead, he decided to use his own. It made Rex realize that he hadn't seen Slim in the showers or without a shirt on for quite some time because he surely would have noticed the distended stomach that his brother now sported. More warning signs that he had not discerned.

The calm didn't last. Something went wrong, or right as infants naturally cry, and the cacophony that ensued only made his niece's bawl turn into a terrified and loud screech. Slim was hasty to quiet the baby, but it wasn't quick enough. Someone must have gone out and alerted one of the scientists or guards in the confusion. Gibber, most likely, as he never knew when to keep his goddamn mouth shut back then.

It was all a blur, just like all the other times he had witnessed a decommission. Rex knows that he had closed Slim's bunk, breaking off quickly from the ladder onto the floor. Rex believed he tried to cover for Slim, but Kaminoans were thorough and the clones were naturally bad liars. It didn't help that the tension was easily sensed by the child, the poor thing let out a shriek that haunted Rex to this day.

The scientist had nonchalantly opened the pod and was not impressed by what they saw.

There were no basic luxuries of which to hide the child, so Slim cradled her protectively against his chest. The Kaminoan was swift and apathetic in their removal.

The last time Rex saw Slim was him struggling against the guards that had followed the scientist as his child was ripped from his grasp and a sedative was shot into his neck (Kaminoans always had a tranquilizer on them.). He continued screaming, kicking, and biting at the men holding him back from his baby which Rex could only compare to the frantic motions of a rabid animal. Old tears came back when his movements became sluggish and he realized nothing could be done. He went limp right before he was out of sight and out of mind, but his daughter’s wail was reinvigorated by the lost contact of her unconscious buir until that too faded into the background of the sterile walls of Kamino.

Rex preferred to remember Slim as the defiant brother that he was, the father that he could have been, and not as the lifeless body being carried to his death.

He occasionally wondered how his niece would have been as a cadet. What would she have excelled in? Would she have been a great shot like Slim? What would her name have been? Her friends? Who would she have been if she had been given the opportunity to live? Yet, he would never be given the chance to answer these questions.

Slim was the equivalent of a fifteen-year-old, natborn human and his daughter was only a few minutes old when they were taken. No one is too young to be euthanized in the eyes of the Kaminoans: that was a lesson all clones eventually realized.

His squad was confused, along with the tens of other clones situated in their barracks that had been woken up. Who was that child? Why did Slim have a baby? Was that one of their vod'ika he had? Why were they taking Slim? Force, was he going to be decommissioned? Were they going to be decommissioned?

Though the questions were for him, he took them as rhetorical. He was numb. Another brother was gone. He went to sleep to the sounds of his brothers' bewilderment. Slim's smile that he had directed towards the babe swaddled in his arms was tattooed to the back of his eyelids and he didn't want to feel.

The guilt caused him to wait in his explanation of the events. By the time he was ready to explain what had happened, he didn't need to as the following morning there was a facility-wide announcement.

"Clones shall not bear or sire children. Any found to do so will be decommissioned along with the offspring."

Blunt, straight to the point, and his batchmates paled in the realization of what they had unknowingly done. Within two days, every clone knew why the announcement had taken place. Everyone knew about Slim and his daughter.

Within two days, everyone knew the sire was not a clone. The trainer who had abused, assaulted, and raped Slim had mysteriously vanished and, subsequently, this revealed the parentage. Rex didn't know if Kaminoans believed in decommissioning natborns and he didn't want to ponder over it. At least the man would not be able to make another vod his victim in Slim's absence.

The fact that clones could bear children was a closely guarded secret that only the Kaminoans and the clones were allowed to know. The Kaminoans fearing of perceived imperfections and the clones petrified of being decommissioned. When secrets broke out, people disappeared.

The clones didn't really know how Jango felt about the decommissioning of clones and their offspring. He was there when the announcement was delivered and he didn't seem at all surprised that clones could bear children. He died before anyone could ask, but it turned out that the Kaminoans had mistakenly thought Jango was sterile and fully human. They probably still thought that, but the clones knew better. If they had any say in it, the Kaminoans would only see Slim as an outlier. Clones could bear children, but only a few had actually done it. So far that had worked.

Slim was the first, but he was most definitely not the last. Slim hid his pregnancy well, but future vode had the help that Slim had wished for: the help of his fellow clones that he had received in his final moments from Rex. Future brothers and sisters, with the collective assistance of the vode, were able to hide their children as well.

And, as Kix dragged Rex aside and secretly revealed to him the results of another vod's blood tests, he knew he was always going to be willing to give all he could.

For Slim.

For his vod.

For the ad'ike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to write this fanfic for myself because there was a lack of...idk..what I wanted? Any who read this are an added bonus.


	2. Chapter 1

Kix could effortlessly recall when word spread about Slim, the clone who had borne a child. He remembered how it fundamentally changed the vode. It unified them; made them realize that they needed to be able to trust each other because they were all they had. It was the one thing everyone could agree on even more so than their allegiance to the Republic: outing a brother being deemed a form of social suicide. The incident also established the foundations for the intergalactic clone gossip communication system which was utilized for basically anything and everything.

When the news broke out, he'd been recently assigned to the medic track. He was enlightened on how to protect himself and his brothers from the consequences of sex more so than the majority of his brethren. The Kaminoan Sexual Education course would get revamped after the affair if that was any solace, but it still lacked the bare necessities.

He understood that Slim was not given an option, but he recognized other brothers were. Though the clone medics didn't have to teach everything, they hammered in the importance of contraceptives. By the time he was out of Kamino, he had single-handedly created, he may have received a little assistance, an underground contraceptive-trafficking ring. Long-necks didn't believe in contraceptives, in their culture they were regarded as wastes of resources for the bulk of children were developed in incubators, so the clones improvised.

As he aged and became accustomed to life on the battlefield, he familiarized himself with the routine of striking fear into the hearts of shinies who thought themselves too good for condoms. It was a right of passage in the 501st to survive one of Kix's sermons about the horrors of unprotected sex; it was a death sentence if the rant followed a pregnancy scare.

Sometimes Jesse would intrude and observe, as Rex called them, Kix's "petrifying and graphic retelling of what would happen if a shiny didn't use protection. I pray for the idiot who ends up on his bad side", cackling uncontrollably in the background as the new recruits squirmed under Kix's steel gaze. Jesse's presence never helped boost the shinies' spirits. In fact, it often made it worse. At least, that was what Kix scolded him for, but he never did get around to kicking Jesse out.

The most substantial of these occurrences had been the time Jesse waited until all the shinies left, Kix believed it was the group Dogma and Tup arrived with, before snickering as he dubbed Kix a hypocrite.

"That's why I have to be so harsh, so they don't make the same, stupid mistake I made," Kix scoffed at Jesse as he strode across the room.

Jesse closed the distance between himself and Kix, draping his arms lazily around his shoulders," I hardly think I'm a mistake."

"You know that's not what I meant," Kix rolled his eyes before sighing out, "We could've been decommissioned."

"We weren't though," Jesse cheekily remarked, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face.

Kix wrapped his arms around Jesse's torso, fingers cascading the curve of the plastoid on Jesse's hip, then admitted: "I mean, you aren't wrong."

Jesse chuckled and, Force, did that make Kix want to knock the smug look off of him, "You know you wouldn't trade Coyote for anything else in the world."

"I stand firm in my belief that he could've come at a better time,'' he rebuked.

Jesse whined out a tease, "Why are you so hard to please?"

He yanked Kix further into his embrace and Kix happily obliged to close the distance, murmuring, "Shut up," before seizing Jesse's mouth with his own. Jesse let out a content hum as if that had been his plan all along. He did always know how to distract his riduur.

Yet, it made Kix think. Jesse was right: he was a hypocrite. At age eight, his underground dealings were not only fueled by a desire to aid his brothers but self-interest. With a baby on the way, he vowed to keep his vod'ike from making his mistakes and suffering as he had.

Jesse was also correct in his second accusation. Kix wouldn't trade Coyote for the galaxy. Coyote just came at a terrible time like the worst one possible. He and Jesse were only cadets, meeting despite probability declaring otherwise for they were in separate squads and separate tracks. Kix had accidentally bumped into an older cadet in the mess hall one day and they magically hit it off. Jesse's squad practically adopted him as an honorary squadmate.

Kix ended up pregnant a few months later, to everyone's distress, and he was thankful that Jesse hadn't abandoned him and their child. It would have been a dick move, but understandable in their position. Kix wouldn't have held it against him.

It was a miracle that they ended up in the same batallion: Kix as the medic of the 501st and Jesse a trooper in Torrent Company (Of course, Kix was part of the Torrent Company _now_ , but he hadn't always been.). They were forever in debt to the anonymous brother who managed to pull some strings behind the scenes. Clones invariably put in an effort so that brothers could remain with their partners. 

Kix, and the few clones before him, learned to adapt and trust their fellow clone. Clones believed in strength in numbers and, even with the war going on, it only took a few days for every clone to know another had conceived. As a unit, the vode collectively worked to secure the future of the parent and child. 

They had systems in place for when the child, or children in some rare cases, was born. Thousands of clone cadets were actually second-generation and female clones, while rare, still occurred often enough that no one worried over their daughters being found out. If the sire wasn't a clone, there would be a galaxy-wide manhunt for the other father and, if judged fit, the newborn would be delivered to them. Clones maintained communication with sires in these circumstances. The only people besides the Kaminoans and the clones that knew about the hidden ability to carry children were the natborn fathers.

There had been a few occasions where Kix wanted to shank the natborns, especially when those damn senators shot down a clone rights bill, who accused him of not being real or not comprehending ”real people” concepts like family. He wanted to see them walk a mile in his shoes and go through all the bullshit he dealt with on a daily basis. Maybe that would shut them up; make them stop ignoring the existence of millions of sentients. He didn't though. They had no right to know.

There were times where the clones considered confiding in the Jedi. If there was a group that the majority of clones trusted more than their own, it would be the Jedi. Anxiety spread at the beginning of the war with the assumption that the secret would be uncovered because Jedi could sense unborn lifeforms, but that was proven to be a misconception. It turned out that Jedi couldn't even sense their own offspring, let alone other people's, which was discovered when the other father of Keeli's daughter was disclosed.

There was universal dismay among the vode after the reveal that a Jedi and clone had fallen in love and procreated in such a short period of time. What would they do with the child? They couldn't conceal them forever and they couldn't leave a Nikto child on Kamino or hand the baby off to the sire for safekeeping.

Luckily, when the girl was born she had a high enough midichlorian count, so Ima-Gun Di had been able to drop her off at the Jedi Temple in Coruscant. He even employed the excuse that there weren't enough Nikto around so he could visit his daughter whenever he found the time. If Keeli always followed him like a shadow during these visits and visibly melted and cooed once catching a glimpse of the baby, surely it was just for security. What if Ima-Gun Di named the child Pounamu Di? The girl had no name and the Di lineage was strong and full of culture (Pounamu may have been Keeli's suggestion as it was a traditional Mandalorian name that meant treasured gift, but no one needed to know that.). The Jedi were not ones to cut the younglings off from their culture, even if it was only the culture of the species the child most looked like.

It resonated deeply within the vode when another brother died before they could tell their child of their origin. All the brothers were appalled when both parents died. It meant that it was the responsibility of the vode to deliver the news to the ad when there were old enough to keep a secret. Usually, the one to break the news was a batchmate, squadmate, or member of the company the parents had been in. Sometimes, all those brothers were lost as well. In those situations, it was the responsibility of the clone commanders under Shaak Ti to tell the cadet or, in Pounamu Di's case, youngling. Though, because of Pounamu’s location, Kix imagined a special case would be made to allow a member of the Coruscant Guard to tell her.

Kix was relieved Jesse and he were able to tell Coyote themselves of his parentage. Jesse had been one of the few survivors of the original Torrent Company and it had been terrifying to wait for confirmation that he was still alive. Over time, as Kix became used to the suffocating danger, he calmed down. Jesse was capable of taking care of himself, but Kix didn't want to think of the possibility that one day Coyote would be told his buire had passed.

The fear had been unbearable and constant during Umbara, but it had been at its most suffocating when he had been forced to stare Jesse down with a blaster. He had been furious afterward because his husband had not fully thought of the consequences. He didn’t think about leaving Kix to tell their son about how his bu killed his buir. 

Kix clung to the hope that when the war was over there wouldn't be a mass decommissioning; the clones would be free and have rights as civilians of the Republic. He yearned for a future where the two of them would be able to raise Coyote and grant him a semblance of the childhood they never had.

Coyote was almost five, but his youthful years were dwindling faster than they had any right to. Clones aged twice as fast as natborns, but the rate normalized after they reached twenty physically. Long-necks were all about preserving their products in their prime.

Whenever he happened upon brothers that guarded Kamino, if knowledgeable, they would tell him how Coyote was doing. The most monumental of these discussions was when Kix discovered his son was no longer CT-53-1286 but Coyote. Pride had swelled in his chest, both because he'd been named in the first place and of how young he had been when he earned his name, and he later gushed to Jesse about it who was just as jubilant if not more. There had been a lot of tears and congratulations that day as Kix told the entire 501st. They needed good news after the substantial loss of a company.

It was a few months after Coyote had been named that they formally introduced themselves to him. A handful of cadets, practically toddlers, were being shown around the Resolute (May she rest in peace.). If the cadets came from different batches and clones not of the 501st decided to show up, who was to say anything? It was one of the few moments where multiple battalions had the same leave time, so they weren't planning on squandering the opportunity.

Jesse and he hadn't seen Coyote in person since then, but they had been allowed to comm him which was better than nothing. It was near impossible to not weep during these calls, but Kix pushed through as he paid attention to his son rambling over his "batch" and all the interesting stuff he was learning. Kix could listen to him babble for hours, but that was sadly not practical.

He thought back to the attacks on Kamino and how he had been selfishly relieved that out of all the cadets who died none of them had been his son. He later heard about two brothers whose daughter died during the battle, a civilian casualty which had been counted as property damage, and how they had chosen to join her. Kix knew that if Coyote had been killed he would have been in the same position as them.

He had gotten to the bottom of why the Kaminoans forbid the creation of the second-generation. They made clones sentimental and impulsive; they created loyalty in something more than the Republic.

They were _dangerous_.

\------

Honestly, Kix thought he had a good sense of who the troublemakers were when he educated the shinies. He discerned who to control and how to do it effortlessly. No one had gotten pregnant under his watchful eye; like a mother Loth cat he scrutinized the shinies and sniffed out any haughtiness (Of course, there were some vode who had had children during their training on Kamino. Kix and Jesse weren’t the sole parents of the 501st.). He would be damned if the fear he instilled among his company were for naught.

Kix reckoned he was damned. He couldn't wrap his head around how Tup had managed to fly under his radar. He seemed like such a sweet boy, but really Kix should have suspected. Anyone who could deal with Fives for a lengthy duration of time had to be a little crazy. Fives was undoubtedly a problem child and harmful influence, but he couldn't say he wasn't grateful for Tup halting some of his crazier schemes. Tup and Fives balanced each other out nicely and Kix never was one to stop a healthy relationship. Jesse would joke that he had gone soft, but he was just a sucker for young love.

The troublemaker in Tup was brought to his attention after the Battle of Ringo Vinda. There had been little to no breaks during their time on that Force-forsaken Separatist station, but Kix still managed to find the time to medically examine Tup.

He was thankful he had detected the tumor when he did: who knew what would have happened if he hadn't?

Tup had been out of it for weeks: nausea, headaches, and, the final straw, passing out in the middle of a shootout. They almost left his collapsed form on the battlefield because, as the General said, they couldn't afford to have a deadweight. General Tiplar and Tiplee agreed with this sentiment, but Fives literally hadn’t give a single fuck (Kix felt immense satisfaction when Fives had refused the order.). After it was revealed Tup had only fainted, Skywalker apologized profusely for being the one to suggest they leave Tup to perish. That, however, didn't erase the fact Tup had almost died because of his false beliefs. 

All of this had sent Fives into a destructive tizzy and Tup unquestionably would have never come to him if it hadn't. Tup claimed he didn't want to waste any resources on a false alarm. He was rewarded for his statement with a smack on the upside of the head by Kix.

Kix was always one for timely, impromptu surgery and Tup did not give any grievance over him doing so besides the usual "I'm sure there is something better you could be doing with your time and our limited resources." He eventually gave in after some persuasion. He realized that if Kix hadn't done the surgery when he did Fives would have attempted to do it in his stead. Fives would have most likely found a way to accidentally kill both Tup and himself in the process. Unlike Fives, Kix was known for his ability to do hour-long surgeries in a few minutes. With some, he could even work as fast as a droid. Stress had honed his abilities to a sharp edge.

He drew two and a half mililiters of blood beforehand, as was standard procedure, Fives peeking over his shoulder the _whole time_. Fives loudly critiqued him as he operated and that was the exact opposite of helpful. He nearly snapped at him and tossed him out, but restrained himself once he saw the anguish in Fives' face. He anticipated Fives wouldn't survive the demise of another person he cared about. He wasn't going to tear him away from the most important person in his life. Osik, he had gone soft.

He would study and examine the blood sample and tumor once the campaign was over. Hopefully, that wouldn't take too long.

With the tumor removed, Tup's headaches had immediately disappeared which reaffirmed Kix's presumption that he had done the surgery at the most opportune time. 

After several more rotations, the Republic had claimed the space station (Kix had to physically restrain himself from launching at Jesse and just going at it. Coyote didn’t need a sibling at the moment.). That finally gave Kix enough time to examine the tumor, test the blood, and sleep for a period longer than an hour. If all went well, the tumor would be benign and Kix wouldn't have to worry about anything arising in the near future.

While working on the tumor, the results of the blood tests came back. He decided to wait until after his examination to go over them. He didn't want any distractions from the more important task.

He could say with a hundred percent certainty that it was the strangest tumor he had ever encountered during his career as a medic. Which made sense now that he looked back. It wasn't really a tumor but a biochip. When Kix realized this he was alarmed and terrified: what would have happened if he had left it in Tup? It was clearly malfunctioning, probably would've killed Tup if left in longer, and Kix felt even more relief in his haste to do the surgery. Thank the Force for Fives' annoying pestering.

Kix speculated over what it could conceivably be used for. Why did Tup have one in his brain? Did every clone have them? He would have to check that latter question at a later date.

He began to look over the blood tests. Hoping that he would get good news out of a bad situation. He skimmed over them with practiced ease before realizing that something was not as it should be. He audibly gasped after discerning what the results meant.

Technically, he did receive good news.

It just wasn't what he expected.

\------

Rex rushed over to the medic tent as soon as he could after Kix had commed him. It took him around an hour as he had to cover for General Skywalker as he "held a meeting" with Senator Amidala.

Skywalker still assumed General Kenobi to be in the dark about their relationship, but he was beyond obvious. Rex, however, didn't wish to be the one to tell Skywalker that he was just as horrendous at lying as his troopers. Therefore, Rex frequently found himself on guard duty.

He felt like an idiot standing guard outside of the room. What was he supposed to do with his hands? Cross his arms? Place them on his hips? Just limp by his sides? What seemed least conspicuous? Dammit, he was moving way to fucking much. The pressure of getting to Kix undoubtedly reaching his brain.

Once the General had come out of the abandoned storage room, Rex immediately left. Cutting off the General as he tried to converse with him. If Skywalker looked a little miffed as Rex jogged away, Rex didn't have anything to say about it. Whatever Kix had to announce was important, a "medical emergency", and Rex hoped he wasn't too late.

He burst into the medical bay, causing Kix to abruptly swivel towards him in shock. He nearly launched the datapad in his hands at Rex's head, but Kix faltered once he saw who it was: recognition shimmering in his eyes right before the datapad left his hand. He stood up from where he was seated, feigning that his nerves hadn't gotten the best of him. He wasn't fooling anyone.

Rex thought he seemed far too calm, even with the initial, defensive reaction. How did Kix go from the frantic comm to the relaxed attitude he saw before him?

Kix could sense his turmoil and pointedly crossed his arms, "It's nothing life-threatening. You are just required to know as captain."

Kix handed him a datapad and he found himself looking at the results of a vod's blood work. He could barely register what he saw before Kix took the pad away from him. 

"Tup's pregnant."

Kix was naturally blunt when it came to medical diagnosis and Rex prided himself on being used to it. Yet, he was still taken aback as the information reached his ears. One of the youngest members of their company was pregnant, a child himself, and his protective instincts kicked in. Nothing would come between Rex and the safety of his family.

Before he had started properly processing the situation, Kix dropped another bombshell. "The tumor that I told you about? Turns out it was a biochip, I think it is specifically a command chip. I-," he looked as lost as Rex, "-don't know what for."

He stepped back in shock, placing a hand on the wall to stabilize and ground himself in reality. Announcements were swirling in his brain as he strained to sort through it all. There was way too much going on; too much of a load all at once.

Kix must've noticed the unrest emanating from him because he leads him to the crucial question.

"What are we going to do, Rex?"

Though he spoke to calm Rex, his voice wavered slightly. Unknown to Rex, Kix was concerning himself over the fact Tup could've died because of the biochip. He would have felt morally responsible if Tup passed on because of his arrogance and if Fives had mentally spiraled because of Tup's passing.

Somehow the query still grounded Rex despite the undertone of anxiety. He remembered that he couldn't let himself be deterred by confusion. Hesistation got troopers killed and, judging by Kix, it wouldn't benefit the men under his command either.

His hesitation was what had killed Slim.

"We're going to have to alert the generals about the biochip," where Kix's voice wavered, his remained solid and sure.

"And Tup?"

Rex believed Tup had a right to know, but he would already have enough to worry about with the baby. Moreover, he was less likely to get a target on his back if the biochip had been put in for a malicious purpose. He was not going to witness the death of a niece or nephew ever again. He would do everything in his power to make sure that Tup didn't undergo the same fate as Slim.

"Don't tell him about the biochip. The less that know the better."

Kix nodded and Rex took this as a go-ahead to exit. He would need to schedule a meeting with General Skywalker to divulge the information of the chips to the Council.

"Yes, sir," Kix mumbled to himself moments after Rex departed.

Kix breathed out the tension that had built up during the day; unwinding into a chair that was neither comfortable nor practical. That was the manageable conversation, for he now had to call down Tup. It was going to be rough.

\------

Kix had to stop himself from laughing when Tup had narrowly avoided faceplanting while entering the medbay. It seemed like Tup had more in common with Fives than he thought, but right now was not the time or place for tomfoolery.

Tup's cheeks flushed as he tried to regain composure and Kix commended him for his effort. Tup, unlike Fives, often looked like he was a few seconds away from dying of humiliation, but that had yet to happen. Kix could tell that he had been nervous beforehand so the stumble didn't do any good for confidence.

"What did the tests say?" Tup cringed at the apprehension that had seeped into his voice as he ambled over to Kix. Despite his best efforts, he still retained some of the qualities of a shiny. It didn't help that it reminded his older brothers that he was basically the same age as one even with his experience.

"The tumor was benign," Kix released a light chuckle. It appeared to have the positive effect he desired as Tup visibly relaxed. Good, he needed to be calm.

"Well, that's a relief," Tup sighed before veering around towards the exit in desperation to leave. A long stay in the med bay was never a good one and Tup preferred to get out as quickly as possible. He briefly glanced back to Kix in questioning, "Is that going to be-"

"Tup, are you having sexual relations with Fives?" Kix knew that Tup knew that he knew about their relationship. It wasn't exactly a secret, even if the natborns never took notice.

General Skywalker didn't even know about him and Jesse, and he had been at their wedding. Yes, it was entirely in Mando'a, but that was hardly an excuse. General Kenobi, who was fluent in Mando'a and also invited, was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but Skywalker was nothing if not oblivious to those around him. What did Padme see in him again?

But the common knowledge of the nature of his and Fives' relationship didn't stop Tup from freezing, hands tightening at his sides, before swerving to face Kix. Avoiding Kix's straight gaze, while his face was caked in a red blush, "I hardly see how...," confusion etched in his tone before his eyes widened in realization.

Kix growled as he watched Tup's face crumble in disbelief, "I'm going to fucking _beat_ some sense into Fives."

Tup finally built up the courage to look the medic in the eyes, "Calm down, Kix. I am just as responsible-"

Kix laid his hand on Tup's shoulder, halting the steady rise of his voice. "Tup, you really aren't," Kix softly assured him.

Tup had not expected that; he was perplexed and offended by the pity in Kix's embrace, "What-"

"You are a child," Kix's grip tensed before Tup inevitably pushed him away in irritation. Kix couldn't say he was surprised.

Kix was reaffirming his fear: no one respected him, only viewing him as the fledgling of the group. He thought he was doing something right. He thought he had proved himself.

"I'm an adult."

Bitterness blazed like a fire in his eyes, fueled by his rage of being seen as inferior. Kix almost felt guilty for what he was about to say. Almost being the keyword. Tup needed to understand the reality of his situation.

"Maybe to the natborns, but to me, to the people that _matter_ , you are a child."

"I'm not...," the intense heat was lost, replaced with a flickering and dim flame. Tup's voice was light and defeated. He came off as exhausted and weary, his stance relaxed but uncomfortable. Force, maybe Kix was right.

Kix grabbed his brother's hands in his own, which forced Tup to pay attention, and looked him dead in the eyes, "Until you stop aging twice as fast, you are a child in my eyes. I thought it was crazy when they started sending out cadets at nine but you and Dogma," Kix felt sympathy as Tup flinched in remembrance, "were only eight. You should still be on Kamino. Fives should know better."

Kix shook his head in exasperation. Here's to not breaking the cycle of teenage pregnancy. He didn't need Fives corrupting any more people. He knew his mental stability wouldn't survive that journey.

"Was that all you needed to tell me, sir," Kix softened. Tup reminded him of himself when he had been in the same situation: helpless, confused and frightened. Who could guess what he thought Fives' reaction would be.

He wanted to tell Tup more, but Rex had sworn him to secrecy so he settled for the next best thing.

Kix reassuringly squeezed Tup's hand, "I will do everything in my power to see that you and your child aren't decommissioned."

Tup didn't look comforted, but he realized that that was all Kix could guarantee. It was all Kix could promise: he and the child wouldn't be caught. Even with the Jedi, there were still decommissionings of this variety when a clone was discovered. It was rare; they were more likely to die because of a battle-related injury.

The easiest thing about a clone pregnancy was hiding it. Kix could remember how he had barely shown while carrying Coyote. All the uniforms they were given left nothing to the imagination, but alterations were easily made. Clone babies were born smaller than natborn human babies, most likely a byproduct of the variety of species in Jango's gene pool, and it made it even easier to disguise a pregnancy.

The hardest part of the pregnancy was when it was over and the child had to be transferred to Kamino. Sometimes the transfer couldn't transpire for weeks. During that period, brothers frantically hid their children: praying that the child wouldn't starve, explode or be found while they were gone on the battlefield. Tup had to understand what he was going to have to sacrifice if he went through with having the child.

"Now you can get out of here," he began to shove Tup out, "I think it would be preferable if you broke the news to Fives." Sooner rather than later would be best, but Tup could go at his own pace. Well, not really, the news would be broken to Fives by another brother if he postponed for too long. No communication network was faster and more efficient than clone gossip.

Tup weakly nodded as the color left his face. His knees nearly buckling under his weight, but he didn't trip like he had during his entrance. He left the room with his dignity shattered and the knowledge that he would have another person to live for; a person he would put ahead of himself and everyone around him. He had no idea what he was going to do.

Kix knew the feeling better than most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how long this will be. I also have no idea what I’m doing. The next chapter will be just as big a surprise to y’all as it is to me.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...um...this exists now.

The dream was hazy: bordering feverishly on reality. He had been rested on a plush bed which might've been appreciated in a different situation. It was located in an unfamiliar area, an unknown room, but the windows reminded him of the kind the elite utilized to block out the bright glare of night, so it had to be somewhere on Coruscant.

His mind was foggy as well, and it reminded him far too much of the drugged interrogation simulations he had undergone as a cadet at Kamino.

He tried to utilize the escape tactics he knew like the back of his hand, but the situation wouldn't allow his influence. He couldn't control his movements, but that wasn't for a lack of trying. His appendages had been fastened to the bedposts which left little room for motion. His armor had been removed, leaving his undersuit and the cloth gag in his mouth as the only barrier between him and the stale room. He strived to wake up, but he instead did nothing: only tugging uselessly against the bonds. The claustrophobia that he had learned to suppress when he was young was now crawling up and clogging the back of his throat.

He lay imprisoned as a weight pressed against his body; recoiling from the unexpected intrusion did little besides exposing his jugular and averting his gaze. The room was light enough that he could make out the robed shape in the darkness. For a frail form, it was abnormally strong and formidable.

"You won't tell anyone about this," its heated breath cascaded down his neck like a predator scenting and testing its prey. He shuddered, attempting to separate from the oppression of the body and sink further into his psyche, as revulsion settled into the pit of his stomach. That wasn't an order.

It was an assumption.

Without warning, it sank its fangs into the juncture between his nape and shoulder, strategically placed in the most visible spot like it was branding him, until blood was drawn. The creature lapped up the fluid building up, streaming effortlessly out of his veins, around his clavicle. He intermediately let out gasps of pain as his vision was highlighted with flecks of light. He could only lay limply as the nightmare did as it pleased with him.

"You're lucky I need you alive," he felt a shiver roll up his spine as it drawled. No, not it, as he drawled. This was not just some manifestation of fear but a man, yet the shadow was still consciously reduced to "it" in his mind. Maybe it had been to sever the dream from actuality or to protect himself from the authenticity.

The scenario seemed far too vivid for its shroud of obscurity. The silhouette created an impression of familiarity, but he couldn't recollect someone having a voice like that: potent, dark, and resonating deep within his essence. It didn't just defile his body, but his soul seeping deep into the cracks of what he had never known existed. He felt he was justified to say he was too preoccupied to recall voices.

It soon grew bored and withdrew from his neck, which provided some respite, before it regained amusement in goring his abdomen with its nails. At first, he thought they were knives being shoved thoughtlessly into his stomach, but as he managed to gaze downward he was startled by the claws on the man's hands. Why did it feel so real? How did he know this pain so well his mind could easily replicate it? Why had he not woken up? 

Force, _please_ , let him wake up.

He thought the horror would never take mercy on him, let him bleed out from the punctures in his torso and neck, but it was swift in the removal of its talons. His spirit hovered, his body relieved as he moaned with involuntary pleasure, while it retreated. Energy slithered from the punctures, encasing his entire being, healing the injuries it had inflicted. It prompted him to imagine the Jedi healers at the temple, but where their treatment was selfless this was malevolent. Though his body was healed it had taken vitality leaving him even more numb to its advances.

It didn't turn attention away for long, but, in its return, it was gentler or as gentle as it could be. It caressed his clothed midsection, stroking to soothe the invisible wounds. The sides of his blacks had been shredded and there were leftover specks of dirty red on the fabric.

Before he could even catch of glimpse of what it was planning, he was frozen in place. A force pushed his line of sight to the demon's face which had been previously cloaked. Fear vibrated in his core as he felt the invisible hands tighten around his neck in warning.

"My grandchild will ascend the throne of the Empire which is their birthright. The Force declares it."

Was that what he was being kept alive for? He was awake now, but how long had he been in the man's possession? Hours? Days? What had it done to him during that time?

Was he being used as breeding stock?

That was unquestionably a common nightmare among the vode: that after the war if they revealed their ability it would become their sole purpose. If the Republic couldn't wield the clones for war, their perceived meaning, they could exploit them for repopulation. The vode couldn't put that past the Republic.

The man finally granted him a peek of his face and he was stunned to find fluorescent, yellow pupils staring back at him in disdainful apathy. They were mesmerizing in a way that he speculated if he gaped at them for too long he would go insane. The man came off as ethereal and unnatural. A familiarity niggled at the back of his head and he couldn't ignore it any longer. If it weren't for the eyes and sunken, pale complexion, it would have looked exactly like Palpatine. He sounded like Palpatine now that he thought about it, but why would he...

He couldn't think anymore. What had been a minor inconvenience at the start was a pounding headache and his sight was fading out because of it.

The man threw his head back into a laugh, low and mocking, as his victim's vision dimmed. He almost didn't want to go back under, to not be aware of what was being done to him, but he welcomed the embrace of silence and calm. He didn't want to have to remember anymore.

Commander Fox woke up, choking for air as he propelled himself up into a sitting position. He had passed out the night before at his office, but somehow he had ended up in his bunk at the barracks. In his panicked state, he hadn't dwelled on the fact.

He frantically scanned the sleeping forms of his brothers, and it appeared nothing was out of place but something felt wrong. He was genuinely frightened in a way he hadn’t been since he was a cadet, yet he didn’t wish to think over what had triggered the response. Fox was hesitant to pass off the nightmare as just another dream, but it was the only thing that made sense.

It had felt so genuine, but Palpatine wouldn't do that. He was a horrible person, the number of times he had Fox do paperwork to enact the exact opposite of what was promised to happen was astonishing, but he wasn't a rapist or a Sith (Fox did the majority of the Chancellor’s paperwork. It was _not_ supposed to be part of his job.). Besides, why would there be the implication that he knew clones could bear children? Why speak of a nonexistent grandchild and empire?

As Fox settled back to sleep, breathing returning to its normal pace, he didn't overlook how he instinctively reached to protect his stomach. Whether it was to guard himself or something else he didn't know. He would need to check in with the medic sometime soon. That would hopefully prove his theory wrong.

The next morning, Thire had been startled when he caught sight of his commander. Fox would learn he had been missing for twenty-eight hours as Thire questioned him. Both were equally concerned in the discovery that Fox remembered nothing from the past day or so. The realization would strengthen his suspicions and desire to see the Coruscant Guard medic.

\------

Kix had never actually participated in one of the substantial meetings before, rarely even stepping foot in the conference room, so he was a little nervous. However, he presumed he was confident enough in his abilities that no one could tell how tense he was.

The holograms around the table were the usual, familiar faces of the available Council members except for the boy at the side of General Billaba. Windu, Yoda, Koon, Billaba, Kenobi, and Cody were all commonplace, but the youth was new. He inferred the child was Billaba's padawan which he justified by the way he was copying her every move. It was incredibly adorable like a baby porg helplessly toddling after their mother, but he looked far too young in Kix's opinion to be on the battlefield. He was only a few years older than Coyote.

Despite his meager, frog-like body, Yoda had a dominating, kind aura, and people were almost subliminally drawn to it. Kix immediately solidified with vigilance when Yoda directed the opening statement at him.

"Trooper Kix, you needed to tell us something we heard."

As Yoda finished, he directed everyone's sight to the holograms of the chips that showed up in the middle of the conference room likely rendered by General Skywalker.

Kix briefly hesitated, but regained his composure after Rex administered a supporting nudge, "I located an inhibitor chip in trooper CT-5385. To confirm that it wasn't an isolated case, I found another in trooper CT-5597 and one in myself. Based on that, it would be safe to conclude they are in every clone." He peeked around the room at everyone's reactions, ranging from disgust to reflection, before going on. "I'm not a good enough slicer to tell what the purpose is, but I know it can't be for stopping rogue clones. It would've been used before." It felt improper and uncomfortable to refer to Tup and Jesse by their birth numbers, but it was protocol for when speaking to higher-ups.

"But I'm on the case, Master Yoda," General Skywalker assured with a tinge of arrogance. While his slicing skills were good enough for this situation, he wasn't the best. If Kix had been able to inform anyone, he would have had Jesse's batchmate, Hedy, undertake the slicing because, unlike Skywalker, she was actually competent (It had been a while since they talked, so it would've been a good excuse to get together.).

Skywalker had essentially begged to check over the biochips once Rex confided to him about them. His initial reaction had simmered with barely-quelled, righteous fury because, as Rex later told him, he had experienced firsthand what inhibitor chips could do. They stripped away everything that made you yourself and turned you into the perfect servant.

Kix was glad he had gotten his inhibitor chip out before that conversation had taken place, for he probably would've given himself brain damage in his haste to remove it. How Rex managed to stay calm in the middle of this even with the chip still cemented in his head was utterly bewildering to Kix. That was probably why Rex was captain and not him.

General Kenobi did the signature stroke of his beard, "That is alarming." Based on his tone alone, Kix couldn't tell if he meant the chips or that the problem was in General Skywalker's hands. Kenobi, especially with the Coruscanti accent, was someone who sounded like he was endlessly inconvenienced by the fools around him, so it was hard to tell what he was thinking. However, based on the glare Skywalker bestowed upon his master, he could infer which one it was.

General Windu interjected the growing tension with a stern look, "This clears things up. I have sensed a shatterpoint; a plot to destroy the Jedi."

"You believe that the biochips were installed with the purpose to get rid of the Order?" General Billaba questioned her old master and Kix noticed that she subtly shifted to defend her padawan. Her padawan not so subtly copied this movement.

It didn't ease any stress as the realization dawned on everyone else in the room. Two of the participants in the meeting were blessed with what could induce them to senselessly murder the people next to them while also destroying any of their individuality. That did not bode well, and it was observed that Commander Cody put a little more distance between himself and General Kenobi. The General let out a sigh before grabbing his partner's hand and wrenching Cody back towards him. Cody looked stunned even with his helmet on, but Kenobi gave him a bittersweet look: distance wouldn't do anything.

"Meditate over this I will. Need a plan of action we do," Master Yoda cut into the awkward silence which rejuvenated the conversation.

Rex, taking off his bucket to reveal an organized dignity, stepped toward the table, "If I may intrude, General, I believe I have a plan." He appeared put together, but Kix had known Rex long enough to tell when he was about to fall apart.

Yoda thoughtfully hummed before signaling with his cane that Rex may continue. Rex silently thanked the General before proceeding. "If we use an EMP, we will theoretically be able to disable the biochips and keep them that way." Kix and he had discussed the possible ways to get rid of or disable the chips and they had come to the conclusion that a mass surgery was out of the question. It had taken hours of creativity, drinking, and planning to perfect the current proposal.

General Koon voiced his concern, "That could be risky." This was why Kix appreciated General Koon; he really cared about the troopers under his leadership.

But that question had come up when he and Rex had plotted, so Kix restated what he had said then, "If we use the right electromagnetic pulse, it could work to overload the inhibitor chips without any outside party being alerted or any troopers being harmed." The latter was more important to Kix and he knew that that was also true for the Jedi.

The General nodded in affirmation before addressing Yoda, "Master Ti should be alerted of this discovery. The cadets most likely have the chips as well." The thought of the cadets having inhibitor chips sickened Kix and he pondered over who could possibly do such a thing. Even though the clones were viewed as products surely some could see the distinction between a child and a weapon. Wait, no, this was the Republic.

"Master Ti I will tell. Know about what trooper Kix has found no one else must," General Yoda ended the meeting with a bend of the head and everyone signed off one by one. Rex nodded at Cody before he and Kenobi signed off and Cody slighted his head in return. Kix wondered what that was for. 

\------

Rex was in a hurry to get somewhere private so he could comm Cody. They usually signaled to each other if they needed to talk after a meeting. Oftentimes, it was to talk shit about what had been said, but this comm had a meaningful function. 

Almost immediately after getting onto their personal comms, Cody exclaimed, "It sounds like a conspiracy theory." He looked haggard and it proved that the helmet he had been wearing during the meeting had hidden about as much as Rex believed it had.

"I didn't want to believe it either when Kix told me."

"I couldn't imagine ever turning on Obi-Wan," it made sense that that was what Cody was troubled about. It wasn't unusual for clones to fall for their generals, but only a few had managed to form relationships. Cody was one of the lucky few.

"Those chips would force us to, but they'll be disabled before that." It was said to comfort Cody, but internally he was endeavoring to console himself.

Rex was thankful that Cody changed the subject. It wasn't the smoothest transition but the effort was appreciated, "CT-5385? That seems familiar."

"His name is Tup," he clarified.

"Isn't that the shiny Fives got himself infatuated with?" Cody joked, trying to achieve a lighthearted tone. It kind of worked, but the biochips were still literally thumping at the back of their minds.

"He's not much of a shiny anymore," and he really wasn't. Tup had come a long way since joining the 501st and Rex experienced something akin to pride as he recalled Tup's progress.

"But he's just as young as one?" was queried. Cody was more than aware of how cadets were being sent out younger and younger. Most clones would concur to it being inhumane.

"Yeah," Rex answered faintly and shook his head in remembrance before turning serious, "This isn't just about catching up, Cody. I need you to spread something for me." Cody was the clone every trooper went to when they needed information spread fast. As the highest standing clone, he was Marshall Commander Cody after all, he had access to more than any other clone combined. He was well-acquainted with being the middleman when it came time to circulate information about the second-generation.

Cody was always willing to help a brother, "Anything you need, Rex."

Rex didn't believe in sugarcoating, so he bluntly said, "Tup is expecting a child."

"I can do that easily. So you didn't inform Tup about the biochips?" Rex could tell that while Cody was shocked by the message, a child from the 501st had never happened before, yet he was more concerned by Tup not knowing about the biochip. However, Rex knew that he had come to the same conclusion as him: it was best if Tup didn't know. 

"How are they handling it?"

"To my knowledge Fives doesn't know yet."

Cody hummed in contemplation, not content with the answer but understanding, before asking, "How are you handling it?

Rex flippantly shrugged, "I've done worse." He had only been in this position before once and he had so royally screwed that up someone died, so it could only go up from there.

Cody let out an exasperated exhale," That's not-," he stared off at an invisible figure before turning back to Rex, "-Sorry, Obi-Wan needs me. I expect an invitation to their riduurok by the way." The last part came with a threatening point of the finger.

Rex grinned in amusement despite the knowledge that if he didn't do what Cody told him his body would never be found, ”Tell General Kenobi I said hi."

The commander rolled his eyes at Rex's light tease before hanging up.

Rex couldn't relax after Cody left. All the tension that had built up during the day was now gushing over and he didn't really know what to do. Indecision and uncertainty were his biggest enemies, but, at least, he had gotten something out of the way. There could now be action put in place to stop the biochips from fulfilling their programming and that was all he could ask for.

\------

The shift from stranger to friend to romantic partner was surprisingly fast and if someone had told Fives that the anxious shiny virtually attached to the side of their batchmate was going to become one of the most important people in his life, honestly, he probably would've believed them. Crazier things had happened to him. This wasn't even close to the tip of the iceberg of weird situations Fives had gotten himself into.

Kix had warned him before anything serious transpired, when their bond was nothing more than glances and brushes of hands about as subtle as General Skywalker, that he shouldn't try to use Tup as a replacement to Echo. The idea hadn't even crossed his mind until that moment and he was greatly confused by Kix's accusation. He could comprehend why Kix was being protective, but no one could replace Echo. Also, no one could replace Tup. Echo and Tup were not interchangeable pieces. They were extremely different individuals despite their shared characteristics.

Fives had almost halted any advances because he became worried that he was subconsciously supplying a stand-in. It would not only be disrespectful to Echo's memory but Tup. He continued trying to court Tup because he could differentiate that while Echo was his brother, his best friend, what he felt for Tup was not platonic. Tup was special to him in a way Echo never was or could be.

While Kix and Rex were attending the meeting, the barracks were conveniently empty which was perfect for Tup and Fives.

Fives quickly identified his bunk before plopping down and tugging Tup on top of him. With their helmets haphazardly thrown, Tup situated himself into a straddle and molded further into Fives as they lowered into the bunk. Plastoid on the torso, seen as an inconvenience, was stripped off only to be strewn on the floor to join their buckets.

Their sensuous lips embraced as Fives' hand latched onto his partner's locks. He roughly seized the hair tie that restricted Tup's abundant hair from gently flowing down the sides of his face. While practical in battle, with it gone there was excess for pulling and Tup let out a moan, heat overflowing from their mouths to the rest of their bodies, as Fives yanked his hair.

They continued, but Fives' hands soon left the comfort of hair to venture downwards. Settling on the bend of the hip, but, instead of further groping, Tup gently detached from the lips of his partner. Fives tried to follow the blessed warmth,but Tup shifted his head causing Fives to only reach his cheek.

This resulted in Fives receding before catching sight of the indecision and turmoil on Tup's face. Tup was biting his lips which was something he did to calm his nerves. Normally Fives thought it was cute, but now it was disconcerting.

"I have something I need to tell you," was what Tup resolved to say as he glanced back at Fives.

"Come on, surely it can-" Fives propped himself up, hands clasping around the person positioned on his lap. The barracks were seldom this deserted and it had been a while since they had alone time. This was not the best time to have a serious discussion.

Tup shook his head, stopping Fives' protest, "No, this is important."

Fives became attentive as he recognized the sincerity and emphasis. Tup needed to tell him something important and it was his duty to listen.

Tup sighed out as Fives focussed on their conversation, "It's about what Kix told me a couple of days ago," confusion permeated from Fives because that was not nearly specific enough. Tup clarified, "About the examination."

That was specific, far too specific now. Distress found its way into the tone of his response, "Kriff, do you have cancer? I thought you said everything was fine." Fives couldn't lose anyone else. He was prepared for a battlefield death (not really), but to have a person dear to him suffer for weeks, maybe even months or years, only to succumb to death was unthinkable.

Tup sensed his concern and lightly cupped his cheek, "Everything is fine."

"Then what is it?" Fives reached up to hold the hand on his face, leaning into the comfort. Tup didn't seem convinced with his own gentle words, but Fives could deduce it wasn't anything that couldn't be dealt with. It wasn't fine, but it wasn't terrible either. That would have to be enough.

Tup shied away from Fives' stare, his voice soft and hesitant, "I'm pregnant." Fives could tell that he was afraid of the oncoming reaction and, judging by his preparation to get up, the persisting silence.

Fives was surprised, to say the least. He and Tup would now be having a child and he hadn't thought of the possibility of that happening in the middle of the war. Maybe far off in a future where clones had rights, but not now (Tup was older than Kix had been when he had Coyote, but he was still so _young_. He was going to turn eighteen with a baby growing in his belly. Force, Fives was such a di'kut. Tup was terrified and it was all his fault.).

Fives, in his hurry to destress Tup, said the first thing that came to his mind, "That's why Kix has been irrationally mad at me. I thought I forgot like a prank or something." His voice sounded far too relieved as if Tup's pregnancy had been the answer to a minor problem.

That obviously wasn't the correct thing to say because Tup scowled before ripping his hand away, "Is that seriously your reaction?" He sounded extremely agitated and down to murder Fives in cold blood which he had a right to. Fives would have probably reacted the same exact way if their positions had been switched.

He would have to choose his next words carefully as he was at a disadvantage here. Tup was not only pinning him down, but Kix would obliterate him if he hurt Tup. Actually, he would probably obliterate himself first.

"I'm sorry. How do you want me to react?" was also not the appropriate response, but Fives had dug his hole and, dammit, he was carving his way straight to the other side of the world. It was definitely a far more proper response than the one his inner voice was having. That trainwreck mainly consisted of the horrifying realization that Tup could've died, thank the Force he ignored orders, and Fives would've never known about the child they were going to have combined with the waaaaaahhhh of an ambulance. That was frankly petrifying and Tup did not deserve that reaction. This would have to do. Guess his kid would have to grow up with only one parent.

By some miracle that got Tup out of his lethal state, but he still yelled at Fives, "I don't know. This honestly is going better than I thought it would."

"What did you think I was going to do?" Fives clapped back which was a great decision on his part.

"How am I supposed to know? I've never been in this situation before," Tup was now in his personal space just screeching. The unblemished fury was kind of sexy; blush crept up Tup's skin giving off a seductive mood. Fives liked a man who could prove his dominance.

"Well, neither have I," Fives screamed causing Tup to blink furiously as he backed away. Fives thought he might've spat on his face because Tup rubbed his hand against his forehead in confusion.

Now they were just gawking at each other, breathing heavily with cheeks flushed. It was a wonder no one had come in to check on the two lunatics shrieking. In the absurdity of it all, Tup started chuckling which transferred into a full-fledged laugh as he noticed Fives' bafflement. Fives had no choice but to join in.

Before long they calmed down and Tup wiped the tears from his eyes before resting his head against Fives' chest, "We're going to be terrible parents." He said it humorously, but there was a tinge of sadness. He was distressed by the belief that what he had said was true.

Fives lightly combed his fingers through Tup's hair to ease his fear, "No, I'm going to be the terrible, fun parent, you'll be the-," Fives stuck his tongue out in disgust as if he had gotten the expired ration, "-responsible one." They both knew the reality of the situation was that they wouldn't be able to actually raise their child. That their relationship with their baby would be brief comms after years of waiting until they were mature enough to know about their parents. Fives wondered how Kix and Jesse could deal with that.

Tup lifted his head up and rolled his eyes at Fives. Sitting back up in his boyfriend’s lap, "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he huffed then rubbed the bridge of his nose, "What is our plan of action?"

"Great question: make sure we don't get decommissioned and that junior here lives till they die of old age," he offered a boyish smirk while he tapped Tup’s stomach which made Tup give him a look between disappointment and acceptance that this idiot was what he had chosen. Sorry, Tup, no refunds.

"Those seem like long-term goals," the younger clone raised his eyebrow in question.

"Children usually are," Fives shrugged. It was true and he could detect when Tup got what he was meaning.

"Yeah," Tup nodded as he tucked hair behind his right ear, "Sounds simple when you put it like that, but it probably won't be."

"Nothing about being a clone has ever been simple," Fives snorted out.

In amazement, Fives continued, "But, _wow_ , we’re having a baby. Like an actual human being that will have needs and..." He searched for a word to describe what he felt.

"It's scary," Tup suggested, eyes crinkling as he delivered a slight grin.

"Absolutely frightening," he paused, resting a hand on Tup's thigh, before asking, "What if we had twins?

He expected Tup's reaction of, "Twins?" Fives could tell from Tup's bewilderment that he had not thought of the possibility of having more than one child. While rare, it was not impossible. Multiples would probably make things way harder than they needed to be.

Ultrasound scans were not a common appliance in the GAR, for they were stocked with the bare minimum of requirements. If a medic truly needed unprovided medical equipment, they were required to put in a request. They could understand that they wouldn't know if Tup was carrying twins until the children were born. They wouldn't even know how the child, or children, was doing health-wise until the newborn was in their arms.

To insert the second-generation into the stream of cadets, the Commanders at Kamino had to find clones that were decanted dead, so, for all the cases, multiples had to be separated.

"Echo was my twin," he understood the pain of being separated. He didn't want his possible, future children to have to endure what he had undergone.

"Right, I knew that," Tup murmured with concern as he noticed Fives wane, but Fives did not need his pity.

"It's fine," Fives knew Tup felt awful about never having met Echo. Tup was extremely aware that Echo and he were tied for Fives' favorite person. Tup's dedication to Echo made Fives feel guilty about the way he had treated Dogma. Dogma had been Tup's closest batchmate and Fives' dismissal of him was one of his greatest mistakes.

A mistake he would never be able to remedy. 

Tup snuggled into Fives' embrace and Fives tightened his grip around Tup's waist. He nuzzled into the crook of Tup's neck as he pressed back down onto his bunk. Once settled, they contentedly listened to each other's beating hearts; appreciating how they could enjoy the other's company when able. In this time, they had been granted the ability of leisure instead of death and, in the coming months, the curtain of loss would be more visible than ever before.

Nonetheless, neither needed to realize how close they had been to the end. Fives didn't need to know of the subsequent years of death and conflict that would have been the consequences of Tup's death. Fives didn't need to know that he would have followed his love to the grave. The only thing that mattered now was the safe body in his arms and the child they would protect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to the acoustic version of Whatcha Say for the equivalent of three hours, so I think that sets the tone for everything I will ever write.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean Mando’a isn't italics? Oh well, I don’t know enough Mando’a to do what I wanted and I didn't want to butcher the language. I don't know how to write in English, so, please, don't make me write in another language.

Tup knew that he shouldn't be playing with his food, but it wasn't his fault that the weird, square ration needed to be destroyed. It was kind of satisfying in a sadistic, maiming-everything-around-you way and it soothed his anxiety which had been exponentially growing for the past few minutes.

He didn't know why he couldn't breathe or why it felt like he was trembling but he wasn't. There was a shadow looming over suffocating him as he tried to claw his way out. Was this what death felt like? But he was familiar enough with this sensation to understand he wasn't dying even if he wanted to.

Tup was _scared_. It was so much like after he found out he was pregnant. Dread choking him as he sat isolated from the rest of the 501st on his bunk. Stripped down to his underwear, blacks and armor lost to the floor, Tup had peered down at his stomach with doubt. His hands had moved to the flat surface of his lower abdomen with such hesitation. Acknowledging it would make it real, but he _wanted_ them more than he had realized. Tears fell as he imagined a slight curve where his baby would be growing and changing the body he was accustomed to seeing. He had feared the possibility of failing the life buried in his belly. 

A lot had happened in the past few hours and Tup finally had the time to contemplate while poking at his food, but he couldn't think with the throb in his head. Fives appeared to have the opposite of his problem as he shoveled his nutriment down as if he was about to succumb to starvation.

The chewing was so karking annoying and Tup wanted to stab Fives in the eye. That was a bit of an overreaction, in his opinion, so he instead exhaled and inhaled in a familiar, serene pattern.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Repetition was found in deep breaths and it managed to make him feel better even if for a little bit. He could finally speculate over what had been bothering him and, hopefully, it wouldn't reset his progress. It always sucked when he thought he was over something only to get punched in the gut by it a few seconds later.

It didn't and Tup was able to quell the urge to impale his ration block and Fives. He had made up his mind, "We should get married."

"What?" Fives mumbled with rations still in his mouth as he looked up from the tray that had entranced him. Pieces of ration were falling from his mouth and it was nauseating. It wasn't the first time he hadn't noticed any of Tup's inner turmoil.

Tup rolled his eyes at Fives before bluntly asking, "Fives, will you marry me?" Clones weren't known for their grand, romantic gestures so this proposal would have to do. He hoped that his partner didn't notice that he was gnawing at his mouth. It was embarrassing and let everyone know he possessed an error. It was a bad, external coping mechanism that he had never learned to break.

Fives swallowed his rations, eyes squinting in confusion, "Why are you asking this now?" That was definitely suspicion that Tup sensed. He wouldn't have had this reaction if he had asked about marriage a few hours before. Tup was insulted that Fives would think that was the only reason he wanted to get married. 

Was that the only reason Fives was staying? No, go away negative thoughts. But they persisted deep in his subconscious.

"It's not because of the baby," he let out a weary sigh, "I just...with everything that's been happening lately: both of us almost dying all the time. I want something permanent. I want to spend the rest of my life with you." He knew he was blushing profusely, but he was proud that he had found the will to look Fives in the eyes.

It was cliche to declare, but those eyes were his favorite. They were virtually the same as seven million others and his own, but Tup could recognize them in a heartbeat. Fives constantly had a glint of mischief in his eyes and they were filled with a stare that made Tup forget his worries. They were different in a way that no one else could comprehend.

He had grown an attraction to Fives during their time on Umbara which he had realized existed after he and the others had been ordered to execute Fives and Jesse. He remembered how heartbroken he had been when it was announced, so he couldn't imagine how Kix had felt. All he remembered was how numb and exhausted Kix had looked after Rex told him that Jesse, his riduur and the father of his child, would be executed by a firing squad he was going to be part of.

He recalled how the puppy love had evolved after Fives had stood his ground for his beliefs during the execution. However, he had fallen in love with the Fives before him: somewhat relaxed, impulsive, and maybe slightly funny sometimes. The man who had been there for him after Dogma had been decommissioned because he understood how it tore you to shreds when you lost a loved one (Tup had never been good at coping, often turning to unsavory outlets, but Fives had helped him mourn in a safe environment.). The Fives that he had been introduced to was far from the man he loved, but he could sometimes catch glimpses of him.

Fives reached across the table to squeeze Tup's hand in reassurance, "We don't have to get married to do that."

It was a sweet sentiment, but the thought still niggled at the back of Tup's mind. Fives didn't break eye contact with him as Tup inquired, "But would you like to get married?"

"Yes." Immense relief filled Tup's mind; any fear that Fives had been pitying him was replaced by the sincerity of his answer. Tup knew that he needed to be able to recognize that people cared about him but it was overwhelming. Yes, Fives liked him, but did he like-like him? It was a silly fear.

"Then why don't we?" Tup believed he needed this. There had been too many close calls and he didn't want to regret what never was.

Fives pondered over what Tup said and nodded in agreement, "You bring up a valid point. I think Rex has been hinting that he wants to officiate at our riduurok anyway." Tup had noticed that Rex had been more open about how good he was at officiating, even if it had been only once, much to Kix and Jesse's annoyance.

"Well, we are obligated to please the captain," Tup joked. He was internally calming down and preparing himself for the next few months which were going to be far more stress-filled than he was used to. He was in for a bumpy ride if he got this stressed out during a marriage proposal.

"So do we have a set time or?" Fives tilted his head with a grin, letting go of Tup's hands to go back to eating his food. Not eating as fast as before as he waited for a response.

Tup had given this thought before because he didn't want their marriage to be in the heat of the moment during a battle. It would be phenomenal, but extremely impractical and dangerous. Tup wanted to live through his vows, thank you.

"Probably sometime when we are stationed with the 212th. Commander Cody likes you for some reason and I think he would take personal offense if he wasn't there. "

"He is aliit," Fives nods his head in understanding.

And wasn't that just crazy? Marshal Commander Cody, one of the highest-ranking clones, considered Fives one of his closest brothers and would be crushed if he wasn't invited to their riduurok. How was this his life?

When he was still a cadet he thought he was going to die quick and fast for the Republic; that there wouldn't be enough time to form a relationship with anyone besides Dogma. His heart still ached at the loss of his batchmate. He hadn't planned on living and he now wanted to do as much as he could with the time he was given.

He hadn't anticipated Fives.

\------

Kix was pleased to discover Fives would not be learning about his child through an outside source like Jesse or Appo. He loved Jesse to death, but he always managed to find a way to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Kix wasn't any better, but people usually directed their outrage towards Jesse in those circumstances so he didn't really care about self-improvement.

Kix had not personally dealt with a pregnant clone in a long time, the last time he had dealt with pregnancy was a twi'lek on Ryloth, but he quickly fell back into old habits of physical exams and fluid samples. It wasn't anything fancy, just the basics. Height, weight and blood pressure; it was like any other medical examination.

Actually, he was also following up on the brain surgery. The only thing that would have marked this as something other than a follow-up to a tumor removal to an outsider was the additional things he was checking the blood and urine samples for like too much protein or sugar. Well, that and the fact he put on stethoscope on Tup's stomach to check for a heartbeat, but he could bullshit his way through.

If Kix had to guess he would say that Tup was around ten to eleven weeks along. It wasn't an exact science during these early months, but Kix knew what to look for. No heartbeat for one was a big sign that it was before twelve weeks at least.

Now came the most important part, asking Tup for his opinion on his emotional and physical wellbeing. It was going to be particularly difficult because Tup always downplayed everything.

"How have you been feeling?" Kix held a datapad in one hand jotting down ambiguous notes that only he would be able to understand.

"Alright, I guess," Tup shrugged, his legs kicking back and forth underneath the examination table he was sitting on. He had been silent during the majority of the examination and quickly did all Kix had asked him to do. Wearing only the bottom part of his armor, he easily curled his arms protectively around himself.

He turned defensive after Kix gave him a look of skepticism, "No, seriously, I feel way better than before."

"Tup, you need to answer as truthfully as possible. Stop sugarcoating," he emphasized the last part, rubbing his hands roughly into his temples in a circular motion. This wasn't going to get any easier.

Tup looked about as agitated as Kix felt, "I'm fine. I haven't noticed anything wrong."

"What about your anxiety?" He knew he was talking to a wall but he had to ask. He had to be sure.

"Clones can't get anxiety or stress." There we go. If he had a credit for every time someone told him that he would actually have a wage.

He had given up. Inwardly, he was wondering why he allowed himself to be put on the medic track. He could be doing something better with his time, but no, he had to do medical for a bunch of stubborn vode.

He knew that when Tup said he was fine he meant "Oh, I literally just had a panic attack, but I am going to lie right to your face, Kix, because I don't want anyone to worry about me. I'm not important." Stars, why were his brothers like this. He was even worse than Rex who insisted that clones couldn't be hindered by mental ailments as if he didn't suffer from PTSD. He hated his brothers and how dumb they all were. It made his job so much harder.

But he was far past done and he had gotten all he needed. "Well, alright then," he concluded with a little too much force as he set down his datapad. If that was how Tup was going to be, he could leave.

Tup got up from where he was seated as he got the cue to exit the medic bay, but before he could Kix pulled him back, "Hey, the rest of the check-ups will be shorter if that helps." He put an encouraging hand on Tup's shoulder which gained him a pained smile. However, his eyes scanned the room like a cornered animal, he had not let down his guard.

No anxiety, my ass.

Tup didn't leave immediately after this like Kix thought he would. Instead, he told Kix something.

"Fives and I are planning on having our riduurok when we get docked with the 212th." The uneasy look on his face was replaced with genuine contentment as he divulged the news to Kix.

The medic had inferred that they were getting married sometime soon and he was excited for them to take the next step in their relationship. If it could cheer Tup up just by talking about it, it meant it was a great decision for them.

Kix snickered, "Good timing, I know Cody threatened Rex-"

He was cut off by General Skywalker barging into the part of the med bay they were in unannounced, "What did Cody threaten Rex about this time?" He said it with a smirk on his face, but that disappeared after he saw how stockstill the troopers were.

They had turned their heads rapidly in surprise, but Kix had practice with General showing up unexpectedly so he recovered quickly. Kix saluted the General who had gone silent.However, Tup had gone pale, his fear coming off in waves to the force sensitive. He had picked up the remainder of his armor and braced it against his stomach in a panic.

General Skywalker coughed awkwardly before addressing Kix, "Is this a bad time?"

Tup got out of his frigid reaction before robotically heading out the door, "No, I was about to leave. Goodbye, sir." He saluted on his way out, but Kix could tell he was frightened by the General.

The General clearly sensed that as well. Skywalker sent Kix a confused expression, "Why was he..." He trailed off. Kix could only assume the General believed Tup was jumpy around him because of the incident on the Ringo Vinda space station, but Tup couldn't care less. It was preferable Skywalker determined that was the reason.

Kix shook his head in amusement at the misunderstanding before he started to put his equipment away. He was facing away from Skywalker when he clarified, "Tumor removal from the brain is a big surgery. What are you here for, General?" He could tell Skywalker was nervous without looking at him, but he could wait.

Once he finished putting his supplies away he turned back to the General so that he may respond. His back leaning against the counter as he crossed his arms in anticipation.

"I think I found the right pulse."

Kix was relieved he had put all of his stuff away before that had been said because he definitely would've dropped and broken whatever had been in his hands. He gripped against the countertop to curb himself from buckling to the ground.

He would've tried to regain composure, but he saw Skywalker wasn't much better off than him. Kix knew that he had been working day and night to find a way to disable the biochips and it was good to know that his brothers wouldn't be enslaved further. The fear that had been shrouded around Rex and him for days was disintegrating and all he wanted to do was break down in relief. 

Tears swelled around his eyes and he blinked rapidly, allowing them to cascade down, "That is wonderful news."

\------

It had taken a few weeks, but before long the 212th was presented with the opportunity to send some of their men to the Resolute 2.0 and Commander Cody was among them.

That morning Tup had been allowed to clean and repaint his armor. An extraordinary and momentous occasion as it would be the last time his armor would ever be that presentable and clean. Tup was heading to the observation deck alone as it was a Mandalorian tradition, or at least clone, to not see your partner the day of your riduurok. It represented that even when separated you are together. He was nevertheless in a hurry and the empty halls permitted a bit more speed than usual.

Tup had, of course, heard that Padmé Amidala was on board from Rex, but there was distance before then as he had never met her before. She hadn't truly existed from his perspective. It hadn't really registered that she was physically on the same ship as him. Now, in his haste, he had collided with her and it sent them both sprawling to the floor. The split-second pinprick of alarm that was the result of the impact had managed to knock him off his feet.

In realization of what he had done, the General was going to kill him, he hurriedly got up and offered his hand along with an apology, "I am so sorry, Senator." He bent his head in submission as he worried over her reaction. He couldn't have gone through all this trouble just to get decommissioned for walking into a senator.

She took his hand and gracefully got up as if she hadn't just been bulldozed over a few seconds prior. "I should've been paying attention,” she tilted her head in question, "Trooper?"

He hadn't expected her to ask for his number especially because he was wearing his helmet. There was always a sense of alienation from the natborns when it was on. He hoped she wouldn't be one of those people that only asked just to report him.

"Trooper CT-5385, Senator," he gave a cursory bow of the head to her, but he was bewildered by the softening of her face.

"I meant your name," her tone was sorry and she looked like she had to clarify the question far too much for her liking.

"My name is Tup, ma'am," he was relieved that she couldn't see his stunned look. He had never had a civilian ask for his name before let alone someone with political standing.

"Tup," she tested the name on her tongue before returning to him with a curious gaze, "Do you mind me asking where you are in such a rush to?"

"Not at all, Senator. With the current deployment to Scipio," he almost smacked his head when he saw the mourning look of the Senator. He stammered into the next part of the sentence, "Um...we...we had the opportunity to have some of Kenobi's men dock off to our ship. It is the perfect time for my partner and I's riduurok."

He was such an idiot. Why was he making a fool of himself in front of the General's wife? He knew why they were on Scipio.

Wonder burned the sorrow as her interest was peaked, "A riduurok?" She took in the fact he was going to his own wedding in full armor before recognizing what it meant. Her eyes widened with realization, but she calmed her full inquisitiveness. Instead of asking him the various questions she had swirling around, she settled for one, "Is the ceremony going to be in Mando'a?"

"Yes, Senator."

"It has been such a long time since I've witnessed a traditional Mandalorian wedding," sadness stained her voice as her grin lessened and he could empathize with the hidden meaning of her statement.

The purifying of the Mandalorian culture had negatively affected the clones along with the people of Mandalore. The clones saw themselves as Mandalorian despite the beliefs of others. They had been raised in the culture and language, and it was what they identified as. Having a culture made them feel more real, and it was something that was harder to take away. Therefore, the clones did many Mandalorian ceremonies such as the riduurok.

"While it is rude to invite myself to a ceremony received for aliit, would you mind if I attended your riduurok, Trooper Tup?" She asked it so bashfully, with such consideration, as if Tup wasn't a subordinate. As if she respected his traditions and didn't want to intrude without permission. He wasn't used to this.

"It would be an honor, Senator." And it would be. He was nothing but cannon fodder to some senators, but here he was inviting one to his riduurok.

She smiled at him and stepped out of his way, "Then I shouldn't keep you waiting."

Tup continued his journey to the observation deck, but now he was followed by the Senator of Naboo.

Upon entering the observation deck he was once again taken aback by the view. The stars zooming by in hyper-speed never failed to amaze him and he could tell that the Senator was of the same opinion. She lingered by his side as they stared into space. It was quiet and Tup permitted himself to release his stress into the stars.

He could hear the murmur of voices to his right, so he motioned to the senator and they headed to the area that the ceremony would be taking place. They were greeted by the sight of a good portion of the 501st Battalion plus some stragglers.

He waved at one of Hawk's boys who did a curt nod in return. He never got his name, but he should probably ask. The other clone was abnormally tall, so it wouldn’t be that hard to find out who he was. The vod had been the first brother to give Tup a portion of his rations once word had gotten out about the pregnancy. They were barely given enough to live let alone sustain a child, and it was an appreciated act of kindness.

He was so distracted but the grandeur of it all he didn't notice as Rex snuck up on him and pulled him into a hug. Tup relaxed into the embrace of the captain and they both settled into their emotions before separating. It was nice to have someone ground him from his distressing excitement.

Rex bowed his head to Padmé who was still by Tup's side, "Senator." He had shown his shock for a split-second before returning to his usual state of professionalism.

"Captain," she smirked back. She had seen his alarm and was slightly entertained by it.

"I hope your time on the ship has been satisfactory."

"Yes, but it is good to be doing something without Anakin watching over my shoulder," she joked, but Tup could sense she was genuinely relieved.

"Isn't it?" Rex said it with a gleam of humor and understanding.

"Well, I'll let you two talk," she bowed to them both which was contrary to what would have happened in a proper setting, "Congratulations, Tup." She glowed at him before going over to join the conservation taking place between General Kenobi and Marshal Commander Cody. They seemed just as surprised that she was there as Rex has been but no less accepting.

He could see why the General liked her.

He wondered aloud, "Is Fives late or is he hidden somewhere?" He scanned over the crowd, but he couldn't find Fives. Panic rooted itself in his mind as he worried over if Fives would show up or not. He wasn't exactly known for his punctuality.

Rex nudged him in the side, jabbing at the terror in his gut, "It's a miracle but he is actually here," before he exclaimed into the crowd, "Fives!"

Almost instantaneously a masked head chatting with Appo swiveled toward the voice yelling, "What is it, Rex?" When he noticed Tup hovering at Rex's side he hurried over.

Rex raised his eyebrow in amusement as Fives walked over in embarrassment. Rex took them both by the hand and dragged them to the front of the area where the clones had situated themselves.

Like most Mandalorian weddings and ceremonies everyone was standing up. Rare as silence was, a hush went over the crowd as they noticed that the only two helmeted people had gone to the front of the room. It was a custom for all the aliik in attendance to wear armor sans helmet, for the to-be-wedded couple were the only ones allowed to be wearing them.

It was appropriate to get married in your armor as it was heritage. You shall grow into it, you shall live in it, and you shall die in it. It only made sense to be wed in your armor.

Rex waited for the focus to turn to him before starting the ceremony. Slipping easily into Mando'a as the couple joined hands.

" _We are gathered here today to witness the union of two members of our clan. A union not recognized by law but by family. It is our duty as a clan to protect this union, our siblings, and any future clan. That is The Way."_

" _That is The Way,_ " was shouted in unison by the clan in attendance along with the outsiders. Kenobi was practically clan, but it was nice to see the Senator take part in and know their customs.

" _That is The Way,_ " Fives and Tup reiterated as the guests quieted down.

They waited for Rex to nod them on before Tup started taking Fives' right gauntlet off. Fives repeated the same process with Tup. It was as seamless as them taking off their own armor and just as practiced. The most important part of a the wedding was the trading of armor. The armor of your partner became yours and signified a union as strong as the armor you wore. If a pair had children, they would also gift the children pieces of their armor when they came of age.

After they swapped their gauntlets, it was easy to do as they were the same size, they both experimentally flexed their hands before rejoining them. They gave each other a stabilizing squeeze before starting their vows.

" _We are one whether we are together or apart, we will share everything and will raise our children as warriors_ ," they spoke simultaneously. Fives transferred his hands from Tup's hand to his waist, his thumbs hovering over Tup's abdomen. Hyperspace gleamed off the top of his helmet and, even with it on, Tup believed he was beautiful.

" _By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you married. You may now remove your helmets, so you can see each other for the first time as spouses._ "

Tup wrapped his arms around his riduur's neck and pulled him into a light bump of their foreheads: a Keldabe kiss. Tup closed his eyes as they held the kiss. He exhaled out hesitation and worry before they started taking off their helmets. 

He never thought he would have someone look at him like Fives did then; like he meant something. He could tell that they were both crying as streaks went down Fives' face and he felt the weight of tears on his own. He shone like a sun and he was only a planet helplessly caught in its gravity.

" _May your union be blessed by the Manda_ ," Rex clapped his hands onto the shoulders of the married couple in congratulations.

The crowd cheered in approval and surged to the front of the room to gather around the couple. Fives managed to pick Tup up and spin him around before their clan fully surrounded them, causing them both to laugh with euphoria and love in their gaze. The clan huddled around them and it was basically a big group hug. It was comforting even if it was suffocating and smelled of sweat and other body odor. It was the thought that counted. It was nice to feel like part of the clan.

Even with the bodies around them, Tup and Fives only paid mind to each other. They were lost in the elation of marriage and the possibilities to come. Their marriage meant nothing to anyone in the Republic, but it meant everything to them.

Tup saw from the corner of his eye that General Kenobi and Padmé had stayed back out of respect to the aliit. It seemed that General Skywalker had not found his way to their wedding.

\------

Riduuroks were fairly short with the afterparty being the highlight of the night. Kenobi had managed to smuggle in contraband of Coruscanti whiskey and food for the occasion, so they were all partaking in that. Cody would contest that the only reason he could stand Kenobi was because of how lax he was with contraband. Cody could only handle the constant bullshit of his cyare because of alcohol and caf.

Rex and Cody were watching Fives and Jesse's drinking contest which was just comical as it sounded. They watched with amusement as Jesse drank Fives under the table. Fives kept trying to protest that he was actually winning, but Jesse ignored him as he raised his glass in victory to the cheers of his brothers.

Tup couldn't indulge in alcohol with the other members of his clan, but Rex noticed that he wasn't alone. Padmé had joined him to watch Fives' failure to find another opponent. Tup had loosened up at Padmé's approach, and it was promising to see him act so calmly around a stranger.

With all the loud noise, Cody didn't need to whisper as he secretively asked, "How is the progress with the chips?"

It took him out of the moment and Rex closed his eyes to center himself back into reality. Couldn't they just enjoy something? For once?

He murmured back to his brother, "If everything goes according to plan, they will begin to be disabled in a few days' time." No one needed to hear this. He could see his brother relax. While they would still be the property of the Republic, they would no longer be the property of the unknown source of the biochips. At least they knew who was behind the Republic.

Cody let out a sigh of relief, "Good," before his enthusiasm amped up and he repeated with renewed energy, "Good."

Cody returned attention to the other matter at hand, "This is unbelievable. Fives never seemed like the type to be so...domestic." He struggled to find the words, but Rex believed they conveyed what he felt.

"But they seem happy?" He let out a soft smile to his vod. It was always good for a vod to find their match.

"This is the happiest I have seen him since Echo." Cody looked over to where Fives was drunkenly hoarding a cheese platter as Tup chastised him, "Tup is good for him." While Tup could not replace Echo, Rex knew that the young clone had helped Fives' healing process.

Rex lets out a laugh at the sight, "Yeah, Cody-"

He was cut off by the beeping of Cody's comm. It was quiet enough that no one else heard it, but the two clones were seized by the alarm. They both gaped at the comm with uncertainty and dismay.

"I'm so sorry I'm gonna have to take this," but he stayed in front of Rex the whole call.

He watched Cody's face morph from confusion to disgust and dread. He didn't speak the entire time, only at first to answer with a "Commander Cody speaking." It didn't do anything to ease Rex's nerves and as Cody hung up, face void of emotion, Rex looked at him expectantly.

"Fox just commed me," he sounded angry but not at Fox. It was something else and he almost appeared defeated.

Apprehension clambered up the back of Rex's mind and he wondered what could have made Cody react this way.

"What did he tell you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is gonna be a wild ride. 
> 
> Probably gonna come out fast because of Corona (That was a lie because I’m constantly stressed now. Doesn’t really motivate me to write. Sorry about how long it is taking for chapters to get out.). I was halfway through revising when it was announced that my school is now switching to online classes.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why did I write this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that Rey’s father being a clone of Palpatine is dumb as fuck. That is why it must be counteracted by my crack theory. This theory has been buzzing around my head since The Rise of Skywalker came out and all y’all need to feel my pain.

"What did he tell you?"

"Nothing." Cody was bewildered by the unease in Rex's question. Ah, fuck, how drunk was he? The glass didn't look that empty. Oh, wait, how many glasses had it been? Was it three? No. Six? No. It had to have been something other than one. Shit, Obi-Wan was going to make fun of him for being a lightweight...again. That hypocritical bitch.

Cody couldn't control his emotional output at a certain point of drunkenness: he always found a way to express his emotions tenfold. His face did a lot of shifting while intoxicated. Judging by Rex's growing confusion that was most likely the case.

"What do you mean?" Could Rex not fathom the complexities of the word nothing? Rex, you dumbass.

"He didn't say anything," Cody was being a real, snappy piece of shit. But it was true, plain and simple. It was a little strange for anyone to comm him and not speak. It creeped him the fuck out that Fox just breathed into the comm for a minute, but it still happened.

"That isn't like Fox," Rex sassily put a hand on his hip. Sassily...sassily...that was a nice word. Rolled right off the tongue. Rex was a very sassy, little man. Sassy was also a good word. So many good words. He was getting off track. Go back, Cody. He was better than this.

He took a sip from his drink and breathed out a, "Yeah, no shit, Rex." He cringed at his own bluntness. He was not better than this. If Rex couldn't tell how drunk he was before, he could now. Rex surely had to of noticed how quickly he had turned irritable.

"What aren't you telling me?" That was definitely the eyebrow raise of disappointment.

He wouldn't crack under the pressure of the iron gaze, "It's nothing," but he would absolutely avoid the gaze. It made him feel guilty like he needed to take back his internal jabs and tell Rex everything he wanted to hear.

Rex rolled his eyes at Cody's inability to lie. His fingers rubbed the bridge of his nose before he looked his vod dead in the eyes, "I won't forget this." He turned back to where Tup and Fives were now sharing a cheese platter. At least they were having a good time. 

Cody had been dissed by Rex. He was offended, but he also felt extremely intimidated by Rex. Eyebrow raise and that statement? He was totally fucked. Rex rarely ever forgot the shit that he wanted to know. Maybe...no...he was already too deep. Damn his ineptitude at lying. Hopefully, he would only remember the biochip part of their conversation. It didn't help that that was so unlikely he might as well just tell him now, but, no, he mustn't. He couldn't make allegations or stir up gossip in his position without proof. 

The comm reminded him of a conversation he had with Thorn a few rotations before his death. Thorn swore up and down that there was some conspiracy going on in the Coruscant Guard; he suspected Fox of foul play. Yeah, it was strange that a brother Fox had reported as a deserter showed up dead a few levels down like he had been thrown off in an attempt to cover up a murder, but that was pure coincidence.

He didn't think Fox was capable of murdering a vod, at least, not without reason. It had to be some high treason bullshit and, based on what he heard, that was not a case for that trooper. Cody knew his batchmate better than Thorn ever would.

However, there had to be a purpose to the call. Fox did everything with a purpose: he was a micromanaging hardass. He just didn't see the motive yet. Nevertheless, Cody's thoughts easily flipped to a more important matter. He didn't want to dwell on a theory that had no backing.

Actually, cheese sounded delicious. He was going to attempt to steal some from the cheese hoarders and a bonus was that he would also be getting away from Rex. That was a great idea. Good job, Cody.

And the call went to the back of his mind.

\------

He was surrounded by darkness, but he continued walking. His body taut like he was being held up by a string as he went one foot perfectly after the other in a straight line. The rippling of water guiding him as he held his arms out to his sides. He could feel the distant pricks of vegetation and the cool slip of rocks under his feet; the release of tension as he took his foot out of the water only to sink back into its cold embrace. He couldn't remember how he had gotten there, but he knew that it was where he was meant to be.

A force gently nudged him on his front and he stopped in his tracks. It was pure energy, but, unlike Palpatine, it was soft with a comforting aura. He trusted that it knew best, that it cared enough to, and it wanted him to stay there.

He opened his eyes (When had they closed?) and a glare of light greeted him. He squinted at the intrusion, his arms going up to guard his gaze before he noticed movement in the distance.

The foliage that had once been only felt was seen, amassing in blended shades of green and brown. He was in a forest, but he wasn't alone.There were two figures in front of him: a man and a woman. They were blurry at first, nothing but silhouettes, but as he got closer they sharpened along with the rest of his vision.

The man appeared to be a brother, but he held himself differently, more relaxed, and looked older: his hair a smoky grey and his body built bulky instead of lean. However, amongst his Mandalorian-style armor, he wore vambraces with the token blue of the 501st. There had to be some relation. The man felt unusual like he didn't belong in that realm, but where he was different the woman shone in familiarity. Fox was drawn to her almost immediately but withdrew promptly as soon as the two figures started speaking. Deep in his subconscious, he was informed that they couldn't see him.

They were moving farther into the forest at a practiced, brisk speed and Fox didn't have to move as he was dragged along with them. The man pursued after the woman with undirected rage, "I don't know what that di'kut told you, but you are not a Palpatine."

The woman stopped walking and turned to face the man, "General Coyote, I don't think you have any right to say who I am." She spoke with flippant gestures, jabbing at the man's chest before gracefully turning away despite her outrage.

"Rey," the man grabbed and pulled her back as she tried to walk away. Fox steamed with unprecedented protectiveness as the man stopped the woman from moving away as she desired. He wanted to step between them and allow the woman to leave. However, he couldn't interfere and he knew the action was done with good intentions.

The man had gotten her attention and he wouldn't waste more time, "I knew your parents."

Fear and distrust fought on the woman's visage. She couldn't believe what she had heard. She didn't want to believe it. The man had to be lying to her. Why didn't he say anything before?

The man clarified as he noticed her mistrust, "Your father was my cousin."

The woman ripped herself away from the man, backing away as anger pierced from her like electricity. "My father was a Palpatine. Are you?" She queried in panic. Where Fox was blind to the emotions of the man, he was so tied to the woman that the distinction between his and her feelings was nonexistent. He could feel her anger tingling around him, her chipping fear, and her desire for what she had lost. He sensed her teetering off the edge of her control before driving herself back with little regard to her own psyche. She didn't want to hurt the man in front of her, but she would if she must.

The man shook his head, blind to the restraint of power in front of him. "My parents were both clone troopers," and understanding and calm spread in the woman's emotions. She had stopped moving away from the man and allowed him to put a hand on her shoulder in comfort. "Your father was never a Palpatine. He was nobody like how I am nobody. You are the legacy of the millions of soldiers who were bred to die for the Republic from the template of Jango Fett. We are nothing yet everything. Rey'ika, you don't need to be something you aren't."

The man hugged the shocked woman during his final declaration. Her eyes wide and glossy as she went limp into the man's arms: unwinding into his embrace. Then the woman who had the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders for far too long broke down in the arms of the family she had waited years for.

There would be a consolation, questions, and misplaced fury, but it wasn't Fox's right to see. Not yet. Not now.

He stepped back from the prophetic scene. His foot touched the surface of the water before plunging backward unexpectedly. He grabbed forward on impulse, but his hands found nothing but air. His stomach went to his throat as he fell, panic wrapped around his previous calm as the density of water turned into a death-defying drop in the atmosphere.

He landed squarely on his back, the air being shoved out of his lungs, and he wheezed as he got up. He wasn't hurt, if anything, he was disconnected. He was numb. Where there was fear, there was now nothing. The only thing he felt was a pounding in his head. There was something trying to get into his mind, but the one in control wouldn't let it come in.

He looked around the area he had landed in and found himself gawking at a maze of mirrors. The force dragged him along further into the maze for what felt like hours, but he didn't wane. Time and hurt were merely concepts in this strange world.

There was no rhyme or reason for his descent into the maze and he could tell the purpose wasn't to get out: it was to keep someone from finding him. Every turn he saw his own face, a face akin to millions, but, once again, the force stopped him. He understood why because instead of his own reflection he saw a stranger, a young man.

The man looked haggard like he had been running for hours only to realize it was all for naught. His auburn hair was unruly and slick with sweat and sand, but the stern look in his eyes reminded Fox of a shiny living on borrowed time.

The man beckoned for him to come closer. Every step forward the light behind him became dimmer and his speed increased with a sense of urgency. He could almost touch the man now; the darkness all consuming leaving only him and the image in the mirror.

Then the voices started and they echoed and they wouldn't _go away_ and they enlarged the unceasing headache he had had for days. It was a neverending baritone of cacophony.

_He's here._

The exclamations stung down his spine and the animalistic response of flight took hold but he couldn't escape. With no warning, the man thrust his hand through the mirror and pulled him to the other side. He didn't try to fight back because the man was far better than what he knew was inevitably to arrive.

The transition was as if he had been heaved through syrup. It wasn't smooth and a distinct pressure was pushing him in the opposite direction the entire time. Someone didn't want him to be shielded from the darkness.

The force of entering the other side crippled him, jerkily sending him to his hands and knees. He gasped for air before he stood up weakly. It was like standing up for the very first time and Fox wearily looked to where he had entered but found that the mirror was gone. He was enveloped by nothingness and the man of light had disappeared. The pain and exhaustion that should have registered before were stifling him causing him to blindly wander the shadow. There was no respite or solace in this dark place.

He needed to ignore the agony of intrusion, to push out the one trying to take over, but he couldn't. If the unknown man wasn't strong enough, he wouldn't be either. 

It was nothing more than a whisper at first, just the typical throb of his head. It was easily ignored and adjusted to as he tried to find a way out. Soon, a man's cackle deafened the room and it desired the breaking of his defiance. He clasped his hands desperately around his ears, but the noise wasn't coming from the outside. He tried to scream, but he couldn't hear himself no matter how loud he cried. It only made his throat raw and his will defeated.

Everything swirled around him in a tornado of chaos and he couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't exist. The world was nothing but the jeers of the demon inside and it was thrilled to have another victim. He lost himself as he lost his senses to the ghost of the room and there would be no release. He would never escape. He could never elude...

"Commander, are you okay?"

His training at Kamino gave him the ability to judge a threat in record time, but he still felt his finger clasp around the trigger of his blaster as the voice gripped his shoulder. He had been on edge lately and as he calmed down he remembered where he was: the medic bay. Cyto, the Coruscant Guard medic, looked at him with concern.

He had to stop himself from clutching onto Cyto to make sure that he was real and not just a figment of his imagination. His brother had unknowingly permitted him a reprieve and he was far past indebted. However, the facade of collectedness and authority needed to be maintained.

He had been enduring visions for the past week. Different paths and different possibilities presented to him, but he didn't know if he was in control of which road he went down. There was something different about the one he just finished. The ones before had been purely the manipulations of the unknown, but the one he just had Palpatine's fingerprint smudged against it. That was extremely disconcerting. He wondered what it meant.

Fox had been horrified when he received his first vision. He thought he was going crazy when the yellow eyes from his dreams returned in the middle of a discussion with Stone. The realization that the dream had been real, that Palpatine had _used_ him, was sickening. 

The visions had proven his theory that he was being used as a broodmare, so he had gone to Cyto in hopes of checking on his child's health. He wouldn't say or ask for anything else. He knew, without a doubt, that his son would not be corrupted by the leeching greed of his sire. He hypothesized that his visions were the byproduct of carrying a Force-sensitive, but he didn't know for sure. 

Fox couldn't wrap his head around who the man in the mirror was. He wasn't some person in a future event that couldn't detect his presence. He was different and Fox didn't know if he was a good or bad thing.

"Yeah, Cyto, I-," but, even though he tried to push through the pain, he could not speak. It was like a hand had lodged down his throat and pulled carelessly at his vocal cords. He grabbed at his throat in terror and tried to force the words out one more time but all that emerged was blood.

The metallic tang spilled out from his mouth like one might choke out water and both of his hands shot up to cover his mouth as he gasped. The liquid dyed his gloves as he pulled them away and he could no longer mask his fear.

His eyes darted from the gory sight of his gloves to the alarmed gaze of Cyto. It was only for a moment because Cyto adopted a memorized, detached state as he began to access the situation. Medics were taught to think of possible diseases or wounds within milliseconds without sentiment. Emotion and indecision got brothers killed.

His knees collapsed from under him, not from blood loss or shock but from the batter in his skull. Cyto caught him before he could hit the ground. Leaning against Cyto, he was helped into a sitting position on the examination table. He opened his mouth, but Cyto shushed him, "Sir, you should've come to me sooner."

Cyto's apathetic act was fading as he recognized the helplessness in his brother's attempts to speak. His commander really should've come to him earlier. Then he wouldn't havd felt as rushed as he did searching for vials. Once he found them, he hurried over to his brother and collected some of the blood oozing down from his lips (Beggars can't be choosers.). It kept trickling down even though his brother had stopped coughing. It was almost endless. He didn't wish to find out what would happen if he couldn't stop it.

Fox tried to leave as Cyto turned away from him to test his blood sample. The strain to leave couldn't combat the repression of his movement. Palpatine was waiting; he wanted Fox to carry out a task for him.

It took Cyto a few minutes, horrifying minutes of paralysis that passed like hours, but he turned back with a datapad in one hand and the vial in the other. "It doesn't look like you have any ailments that would have these symptoms," he was scrolling through the findings when he landed on the unexpected, "Your hCG levels. When could that have happened?" He wondered out loud as his fingers mindlessly trace over the results. His eyebrows scrunched in contemplation, but he found no response from the other individual in the room. Cyto knew his commander well enough to know he barely had time to sleep let alone sleep with someone else. Fox had priorities and none of them were finding his way into someone’s bed.

Fox yearned to tell him the truth. He craved to be able to disclose to someone, but he couldn't. He was a fool for thinking he would be allowed to.

Cyto's eyes sparked in realization as he murmured, "The twenty-eight hours..."

The desire to yell at Cyto to quit talking became overwhelming as blood rushed to his head making him dizzy and nauseous. Everything blurred around him and he hated the feeling of helplessness.

"But the Chancellor told us you were with him," Cyto was pacing listlessly now. His back was turned to Fox. Thire hadn't told Fox that and, based on Thire's reaction to his return, little trust had been placed in the Chancellor's claim.

Please, Cyto, shut up. He can hear everything. It was if the sith was behind him, shaming his inability to fight back or halt his brother's musings. Horror gripped him as he realized why Palpatine had made him linger.

"The Chancellor-"

SHUT UP SHUT UP

"-that demalgolka." He said it in disbelief, but his anger swelled as he noticed Fox's reaction. He knew his theory, despite how crazy or treasonous it sounded, was true based on the despair spreading throughout his brother. Nothing else made sense. What the Chancellor had done to his brother was nothing less than atrocious.

Fox choked out a few, hoarse words and they were coated in fear, "I am begging you. _Stop talking_." Cyto looked at him in sympathy, but he didn't understand. He didn't understand why he needed to shut the kark up. He could comprehend parts of what had happened, but he couldn't infer the peril lurking in Fox's essence.

"We have to tell somebody," Cyto had made up his mind and he said the one thing Fox most wanted to do. It wasn't meant to be.

Cyto was always too smart for his own good. Fox wasn't bleeding out because of some sort of illness or injury: it was something mystical from an unknown source. He could connect the dots and he discovered what the Jedi had been looking for since the war started.

"He's the Sith Lord," the room became silent and Cyto was conflicted by his realization. He was too preoccupied to prepare for what was to happen next.

As soon as the idea was declared, Fox lost consciousness, but not his view of what transpired. Cyto could not have predicted the hold Palpatine had on his brother.

He wanted to stop when he stood up robotically from the examination table.

He wanted to stop when he raised his blaster.

He wanted to stop when he saw the fearful look on his brother's face. The hurried words of a man who knew his time was up flowed through the room: "This isn't you. You don't need to do this. He's controlling you. Fox-"

He wanted to stop when he silenced Cyto with a deadly precision only meant for droids.

He wanted to stop when Cyto fell limp to the ground.

He wanted to stop as he watched Cyto bleed out: his blood surrounded him like a halo with an eternal, shocked stare etched into his complexion.

He wanted to stop when he carried the body through a passageway he had never seen before in his life.

He wanted to stop when he threw his brother off the top level of Coruscant.

He wanted to stop as he was forced to watch the body fall until he could no longer see it.

He wanted to stop when he was sent back to the medic bay.

He wanted to stop when he started cleaning up the blood on the floor and his hands and his armor and, kark, why was there so much of it? The blood melted into the hue of his armor and he never before wished for it to be anything other than red.

He wanted to stop when he destroyed the vial and datapad.

He wanted to stop when he went to his office.

He wanted to stop when he filed Cyto off as a deserter.

He wanted to stop.

He wouldn't let him stop.

Why wouldn't he let him stop?

What had he done?

Please, let him stop.

Please, he wouldn't do it again.

He woke up with his brother's blood on his hands: the most heinous sin a clone could ever commit. He woke up, and he was disgusted and ashamed. He backed himself up into the corner of his office, trying to separate from the outside world, but he couldn't get away from the voices in his head or himself. He banged against the sides of his head in an attempt to control his pain: to make it external instead of internal. He ceased when he realized it had no effect. Nothing could be worse than Palpatine.

He gradually slid down the wall and curled against his armored knees. Tears threatened to escape, but he wouldn't permit himself to cry. He didn't deserve to pity himself. It dawned on him that Palpatine had allowed him to hear his brother's last words to break him. Cyto would be the only person to know what Fox was going through.

He wasn't going to tell him.

He didn't need to die.

That didn’t matter. What had happened wasn't about rationality, it was about demonstrating power. He didn't need to stop Fox from talking by forcing him to bleed from the mouth, but he did. He didn't need to lead Fox's brother to the truth, but he did.

It ridiculed his loss of motivation. Maybe it should've gone to one of the other members of the Coruscant Guard if he broke this easily. It was an empty threat, but the thought of any of his brothers having to go through this hell strengthened his will. That had the opposite effect of what the sith wanted, but, as his puppet defied him, he delivered his final warning.

_Next time I won't be as merciful._

He wanted to die.

He couldn't live like this.

But it needed him.

Even if he was more trouble than he was worth.

He was expendable, but what he carried wasn't.

It all came down to that: the Chancellor had already put too much effort into this uncertain future. He had mocked Fox over the fact that he had been grooming him for years. This hadn't been the first time Palpatine had controlled him by a long shot, but it was the first time he was aware of it. He didn't know what was worse: not knowing what he had done or being alert while he was being used.

The only thing that kept Fox going was he knew the plan was going to fail. Whether it be sooner or later, the Chancellor's empire would fall. Palpatine didn't know about the visions Fox had been having. Palpatine hadn't anticipated the capabilities of his own child; he only blindly looked into the future.

He eventually had to get out of the office he had locked himself into. He eventually had to go back out and face the fear of annihilating his brothers without a second thought if the Chancellor willed it. He was met by the questioning gazes of his brothers. They had noticed that Cyto had gone missing, and he took no pleasure in seeing their disappointed and enraged faces as he informed them that Cyto deserted. Cyto didn't deserve his memory being tarnished like that.

No one questioned it, except Thorn. Thorn had started asking too many questions, but he luckily managed to steer him away from pushing the line too much.

Thorn had been seething when he was denied the right to search for the medic, "Cyto wouldn't desert and you know that." His anger was understandable as Fox also felt it coursing through him. They both recognized Cyto would never abandon his brothers or the people of the Republic.

"That doesn't erase the fact that he did," Thorn had stopped Fox’s trek through a hallway and he was striving to get past him to no avail. His words were far too cold-blooded, but he needed to distance himself from reality or he would break.

While Thorn continued ranting, he phased out the words and glanced at the wall of the hallway. There was a mirror and in the mirror were three figures. There was no one else in the hallway. The third figure held a blaster to Thorn's head and Fox glared at it, daring it to move.

That was not what Palpatine wanted. He became entranced in the mirror and, as he stepped in a daze towards it, the silhouette turned to reveal its face. Force, it was him. It smirked at his turmoil and began laughing at his resentment. His own laugh turned into the familiar cackle ever-present in his mind.

"Are you even paying attention?" Thorn roughly yanked his arm and pulled him around. It broke his concentration on the mirror and there was a split-second apprehension that he would lose control once more.

His brother was infuriated by how he wasn't being listened to, but he didn't receive the interest he desired. Fox had only looked away for a second but, as his gaze searched for the figure in the mirror, he found nothing. Somehow that was more frightening than when the figure had been present, at least he knew where it was then.

That was a foolish thought because he knew exactly where it went. The shadow was inside him and it had never left. Just because he couldn't see it didn't mean it wasn't there. The notion reminded him he needed to segregate himself from Thorn and everyone else he cared about.

"I have to go," it was far to blunt for Thorn's liking. Thorn shouted after him in brash insults as he ran away like a coward, disregarding his intended location to get away from the public. He wasn't safe and he couldn't imagine he would ever be again. Thorn's words were true, but what he had done was better than what the voice inside his head craved to do.

That was the last conversation he had with Thorn before he died. He had read the reports, but he couldn't shake the thought that Thorn had died on Scipio because of him. He held the conviction that Thorn had been taken care of because he had gotten too close to the truth. It only felt justified as he recognized the creeping presence of darkness while he examined the documents.

The last attempt to warn someone was Cody. He was of high enough standing that people would notice if he went missing, so Palpatine wouldn't dare to have him dealt with. Even if he was dealt with, people would notice. Cody had a lot of flashy natborns that cared about him. The scheme was derived from his desperation to talk to someone, anyone, and his perceiving of the rules of the game. He was too reckless and frantic to see the faults in his plan.

He couldn't talk about the child.

He couldn't talk about Cyto.

He couldn't talk about how Palpatine was a sith.

That was easy enough, but apparently not. He was actually an idiot if he thought Palpatine had anything better to do with his time. Apparently, Palpatine was waiting around for him to do a punishment-worthy deed. Force, was this why he was forced to do all the paperwork? Did he not do anything? He still did all the fucking paperwork, but now he had more lives on the line. Was this what a promotion felt like?

He had called Cody, blinded by his aspirations. He wouldn't be able to get him because of the distance between them. It would be _fine_ , but he couldn't speak. His voice was lost before he could even think of the words to say. He was so dumb. Why was he so stupid?

"Commander Cody speaking."

The words wouldn't come out, he couldn't even say his own name. He choked on the words as he was suffocated by the reality of the situation he was in. He could only breathe into the comm. Deep down he had known that that was going to be the only outcome, but he had clung to the sliver of hope. It was eradicated now.

_You have to try harder than that._

Shut up. He didn't need to be reminded of his oversight through such a smug tone.

_You are lucky that I need you. I will enjoy your disposal._

He almost dropped the comm as he felt invisible nails slide under his chin and down his body. The urge to tear off his armor and claw at the nonexistent hands until all feeling, physical and mental, became absent was far too strong for his liking.

Cody had hung up on him. He could understand how Cody was confused by his stubborn muteness, but it still broke his will in half when the call ended. He let the silent tears roll down his cheeks as it dawned on him that he was alone. He was isolated and he couldn't even help himself.

_Pathetic._

He was pathetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is still reading: thank you, it is much appreciated. 
> 
> This was a hard chapter to write. Fleshing out a crack theory is a grueling process, but it needed to be done.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biochips go away forever like they should have in season six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon is but a distant memory only to be acknowledged for plot points that I like. That being said, I am going to run headfirst into the seventh season.

Don't get Fox wrong, he appreciated them, but the visions were starting to get on his nerves. They were generally helpful: either explaining or setting the base for events that just happened or were about to happen. He didn't know if he could have kept pushing forward, with all the bullshit he had to deal with, if it hadn't been for them.

That being said, they came about at the most inconvenient of times. It was a miracle Palpatine hadn't noticed them yet. (Actually, now that he thought about it, Palpatine had been noticing far less than he did at the beginning. There had undoubtedly been things he saw, heard or thought that should've triggered a consequence from Palpatine, but nothing ended up taking place. Nevertheless, he wasn't going to look a gift fathier in the mouth; he was taking what few blessings he could get.) He had had a few visions before Palpatine had made his presence known, but now anything and everything set them off. It had been a little over a month since they started and it was a near-constant reminder that he was not in charge of his own existence. When he had some sort of semblance of control, he recognized that he was the property of the Republic, but it was only physically. He still held ownership of his emotions and beliefs, even if he couldn't entirely voice them, but that was no longer his reality.

The rest of the Guard was starting to catch on to how dazed and indifferent he had become over the past few weeks. Fox was trying to pull himself together, to remain stable for the others, but sometimes it was more than he could handle alone. He never would have guessed this situation would ever happen to him and he had never actually thought about a circumstance like this before. He was ill-prepared and he had let his guard down. He had let the Guard down without them even knowing. He had failed to protect his brothers and the people of the Republic; he had failed his purpose. All he was able to do now was try to piece together his insight into an uncertain future and do what he could to make sure the path he went down was better than the one he had viewed.

However, he didn't believe he could do much and that was severely disheartening. He didn't have the full picture, but he knew enough to discern the Republic was going to fall soon. He didn't know how, but he felt it was a part of Palpatine's plan to recreate the Galactic Empire. His long-ass plan for galaxy domination which apparently required copulating with a clone so that their granddaughter might become the Empress by absorbing the souls and/or power of all the Sith before her. It was extremely convoluted and, based on what he could tell, would not work. He was proud of his granddaughter for resisting the temptation of the dark side. However, it really showed that his life had to be some big, cosmic joke because Palpatine had essentially manipulated, tortured, and raped him for nothing. Regardless, he preferred nothing over his descendant becoming evil incarnate. Everything would be fine in the end, but it would be better to not have the galaxy under Palpatine's rule longer than need be. Palpatine was a karking psychopath and really should have never been in a position of power in the first place.

The visions were wasted on him. They should have gone to some Jedi Master who could actually do something, not a pregnant clone being mind-controlled by the Sith Lord. Even if he wasn't being controlled by Palpatine, would he be able to do anything? He didn't have any solid proof that Palpatine was a Sith. If he did have evidence, who would take him seriously? The entire situation was absolutely the craziest sounding thing in the galaxy and he had no credibility. He was high-ranking and one of the most decorated clones in the war, but the keyword there was clone. The one thing he might be able to prove was that the Chancellor was a rapist, but politicians walked away from that all the time. Even if it was deemed non-consensual, would it matter? He was technically the Chancellor's property. All it would really do was reveal one of the clones' best-kept secrets. The Force had chosen the worst person to alert about the future.

And that was what happened when Fox was left alone with his thoughts for long periods of time.

It was nice to know his vode were worried about his well-being, but it was also disconcerting. He needed to maintain a slight detachment from those around him, but it was becoming harder as he was drawn further into his mental isolation. The desire to socialize among the clones was practically built into their genetics, so cutting away basic interaction was doing a lot on his psyche (The stress was strangling and he was definitely going more grey. At the rate everything was going at, he was going to become a silver fox by the time he was twenty-four. There had been a few times that undercover work needed to be done and he was usually told by either the person he was guarding and/or a random citizen that he looked good for his age. It made him wonder how old people thought clones were and if they had ever actually seen a clone without armor. It also made him feel self-conscious.).

His coping mechanism of internalizing everything was probably not the best for the baby, but others had survived explosions. A little stress wouldn't hurt them, right? Nothing was more durable than a clone and that was true even in the womb and/or decant chamber. He was about two seconds away from a full mental breakdown at every single moment of every single day and, while it wasn't the most desirable thing ever, he could deal with it. Lying to himself was honestly getting him through this. If it wasn't for the visions, he would have relied solely on repressing everything so technically he was being healthier than he could have been.

However, there were occurrences that he couldn't ignore: the tinge of another's thoughts, the perpetual visions, and now, the more pressing matter, Thire getting a little too close to the truth. Well, not the full truth, but getting around to discovering the visions. If Thire found out about them, Palpatine wouldn't be far behind. Thire would be dealt with and Palpatine would become aware that he knew more than he was letting on. He really couldn't let that happen because he would be totally fucked if it did.

Thire's suspicions had started not long after Thorn had died and it was a cruel reminder of how fragile the whole operation was. The reason for Thire's discovery hadn't even been something he could have controlled. The perceptions just came whenever they wanted to.

It had been a rare, slow morning and it was one of the occasional times that Fox was given a few seconds of relaxation. Thire had just handed him a cup of caf and, in the blink of an eye, Thire had disappeared.

His brother had been replaced with an endless sea of sand with mountains speckled in the distance. Heat pricked against his face and, instead of suffocating him, comfortably enveloped him like a blanket. It was more than just tangible warmth, for there was a calm in this apparition that he had not felt in a long time. The stifling cold and smog of Coruscant were replaced with a single, clear breath. It had been a while since he had breathed real, clean air. Sometimes, instead of having a grand purpose, the Force pointed out that not every part of the future was bad. Maybe it was to give him hope.

Becoming lost in the vast landscape, he almost didn't notice the two children roughhousing not that far from him. Their laughter broke him out of his focus and he couldn't tear his eyes away from them after he realized their proximity. They were the focal point of this manifestation. They didn't show any sign of being aware of him as they were fully consumed by their childish game.

The duo consisted of a human boy and a red Nikto girl with the girl appearing to be the older of the two. She lacked horns around her face, a key feature of the Kajain'sa'Nikto, so she had to be of a mixed bloodline. With her earthy, amber eyes, he inferred she was partially human. She was taller and stronger than the boy and she used it to her advantage in their mock fight: roughly pushing the boy off of her and into the sand. It was like the activity of cadets on Kamino, but where that was for training Fox could tell this was mainly for fun. They looked scuffed up, sand blended into the material of their light brown clothing, but there were giant smiles on their faces and delight in their eyes. The girl skillfully claimed victory and her prize was the squeals of her companion as she mercilessly tickled him.

Fox found himself laughing at the sight. Well, not at it exactly, but the fact that it existed. In the not so distant future, the entire galaxy would be rebuilt by a ruthless dictator and, somehow, he will manage to get out. If only for a little bit, he would produce happiness out of hell. It was extremely domestic and reassuring. He yearned for his child not to grow up under the shadow of their sire; to be used as thoughtlessly as a tool for an ineffective machine.

To his surprise, the laughter made the children take notice of him. That was different, but then he realized an essential detail. Someone had continued laughing after he had stopped and that was probably what the children had heard. He was most likely in their general vicinity because, after the girl helped the other child up, they ran over to where he was standing.

"Uncle Fox," the girl exclaimed as the boy shouted out, arms waving out happily, "Buir." They had run right past him and he didn't need to turn around to know that he would see himself. He didn't want to turn around and he didn't know why. What was he afraid of? Was it the fear of knowing what he might become? Or did he fear that if he looked back he would be locked into that desolate future? There was good in this fate, but that didn't erase all the bad.

He had deduced when he first saw the children that the girl was Pounamu Di, the only half-Nikto who would call him Uncle, and the boy was...his son. Kark, he was going to have a son. He knew that already, but it was more real now that he had actually seen him. He couldn't deny the existence of a jovial kid with rich, auburn hair and skin tan from repeated exposure to a desert planet. He couldn't deny the existence of a kid who would play and laugh and have an actual childhood and live and grow up and have a daughter. He knew Palpatine only viewed the baby as a means to an end, but that baby was still Fox's son. No one would hurt Fox's family ever again. Not even Palpatine. Not even himself.

It wasn't long after the children ran behind him that the vision went away with a snap, quite literally. Thire had snapped in front of his face, clearly, he had observed Fox blank out. He had been staring at his caf for ten minutes and had not been responding to anything that Thire said. Thire had started pestering him about how distant he had been lately and that it wouldn't be good for anyone if he mentally broke.

He had not thought of that conversation until he had gotten into his current situation. He had been organizing his office which he had been doing a lot more as it was one of the only things in his life he could control. It was also one of the only places where people usually didn't walk in on him, so he could break down or blank out without anyone learning about it.

Right in the middle of going through some papers, his vision went black as the room around him faded into a familiar setting. At least it was a place he recognized, that hadn't really happened before. It was a storage unit a few levels down on Coruscant. He was alone, but he could hear the distant whispers of someone else. He headed off in the direction he believed the voice to be coming from. The crates surrounded him in blockades and he had to reroute as he repeatedly met dead ends. The whispers were exponentially gaining volume and a phrase soon rang clear.

"I'm not crazy."

It was the voice of a vod and he once again readjusted his path in their general direction. Based on the accent, he didn't believe he had ever met them. He sounded defensive and was talking to a person who had yet to make their presence known. Why was this substantial? Why was he being shown this?

From behind him, the voice continued. Had he been going the wrong way? "I was framed because I knew the truth...the truth about a plot, a massive deception...organic chips built into our genetic code to make us do whatever someone wants." His brother sounded tired and the desperation in his tone reminded Fox of his own. What was happening was a last resort: he could tell his vod had tried to warn others about the chips but had either been ignored or stopped. The existence of the organic chips was unsettling and showed how far back Palpatine had been planning his takeover. What was worst was that he wasn't the only clone Palpatine could control. Was the chip being used to manipulate him?

The tone changed as the man yelled, his voice reverberating deeper into the room, "You don't believe me." Fox believed him and he wanted more than anything to tell the other clone that. It reaffirmed his own assumption that, even if he did tell other people, no one would believe him. It was the Chancellor's word against his own.

"The Chancellor isn't capable of what you claim," that was General Skywalker. Why were they talking to General Skywalker? He was slightly annoyed by how sure Skywalker sounded in his claim. From the last time he had talked to the General, he could sense the man was guided by his emotions rather than rationality. He was stubborn and couldn't see what he didn't want to.

"He is," there was the vod again and he was just as irritated as Skywalker. If Fox was understanding the conversation correctly, that the Chancellor has put biochips in all the clones, he absolutely agreed with his unknown brother. It made him wonder how this vod had found out about the Chancellor. What had the Chancellor done to him? He prayed the brother wasn't in a similar situation as him.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the rough edge of his own voice, "Stand down, soldier." He had never actually heard himself talking in any of the visions, so this was disturbing. It pushed the theory that this event had to be important. Judging by the urgency of what he had said, something was about to happen. This was the first time he had not seen the focal point of a vision and he didn't know if he wanted to watch it. That didn't stop him from trying to reach the source.

"Stay back." Okay, it appeared that the voices coming from everywhere bit was going to continue. Great. Why were there so many crates?

"Don't do it. Don't do it, soldier." The vod had apparently gotten a blaster if he recognized his own inflection. Things were going to escalate quickly and he was nowhere near where he was supposed to be.

"Get away from me," the vod was trying to be threatening, but Fox was able to tell it was more bark than bite. Hopefully, the other Fox was able to tell as well.

A new, familiar voice entered the scene and this one he actually recognized, "Fives, no!" It was Rex, so the vod, Fives, was most likely from the 501st. That was why he was talking to Skywalker. He had certainly heard that name before. Apparently, Rex believed that Fives was willing to shoot a vod in his own defense. What had happened to make him believe that? What couldn't he see? He wasn't allowed to think over it more as a blaster went off.

It had to have been him that shot first because Rex sounded extremely distressed when he cried out his brother's name, "Fives." Based on that reaction and the deep thump of a body hitting the floor, it was a shot to kill. He would have shot at the shoulder, arm or leg if a vod was endangering him with a blaster, but it was apparent to him that he hadn't been in control. The Chancellor had his name written all over the whole situation.

He was too late. He couldn't reach his brothers. The crates melted into the floor and he was surrounded by emptiness. He caught himself speaking, letters jumbling out of his mouth despite it being closed, and the words echoed endlessly in the void.

_Good soldiers follow orders._

He had heard the phrase before. Not aloud, but he subconsciously knew it. It was familiar but this situation. Was it about to happen? He couldn't recall this ever transpiring, and this was clearly something that many people took part in so he would have known if he killed another vod. It must be happening soon then. Was it warning him so that he could stop it? Would he actually be able to?

Before he knew it he was back in his office and he flinched at the unexpected intrusion of a question: "Commander Fox?" Thire was there, kark, how long had Thire been standing there while he stared intensely at papers? He was beyond thankful that Thire couldn't see him compose himself behind the helmet; that he hadn't seen his vacant expression. He had taken to wearing the helmet more often. It wasn't that unusual.

He had gotten better at recovering from blanking out and found himself almost immediately responding with authority, "Yes, Thire?" The number of times that one of his brothers was there when he went into or came out of a vision was not even remotely good. At least they thought he was just losing it and not anything close to what was actually happening.

Thire was a little more observant than that and he had to be: Thire and Fox kept each other sane. Fox could complain to Thire and vice versa, but that hadn't been happening lately. Especially with Thorn's recent death, that was enough for just the base of an indication that something was awry.

Thire had paused before his explanation and Fox realized he was observing him, "Commander Cody sent out an order to test an experimental weapon. The test is to find who it affects and how. It is supposed to work on droids only, but you know what that means."Sadly, he did really know what that meant. Strange, but it wasn't rare for the Guard to test out weapons. It was easier than doing it out on the front.

Fox began to head out of his office and motioned for Thire to follow him, "Then let's begin testing." Okay, Fox, treat this like any other test and don't zone out for an hour.

It seemed like Fox was going to be able to get away with not having a conversation with Thire, but that was not the case. As they were walking down a hallway towards the barracks, Thire looked over at him, "Are you okay, Fox?"

"I don't see how that's important," he kept looking straight ahead. Don't stop. Don't let anything reveal itself. Don't let the Force or Palpatine take possession of him.

He could feel Thire's exasperation as he sighed, "You seem out of it." Fox snorted which caused Thire to clarify, "More than usual." Well, he got him there. He couldn't deny that. He's been had. Time to draw Thire's attention away from his mental health.

Fox allowed himself to finally look over at his brother and tried to comfort him the best way he could, "I'll be fine, Thire. Nothing I can't deal with." It didn't look like it dwindled Thire's worry. It was a complete lie, so that was anticipated. Thire would not be dissuaded so easily.

They walked in awkward silence until they were right in front of the barracks. Thire cut him off from entering, "Have you ever tried meditating?" He was done with people cutting him off so they could talk to him. It never ended well.

"I'm no Jedi." If he was a Jedi, he wouldn't have been stressed about the knowledge of the galaxy's oncoming demise because he would actually be doing something useful to stop it.

"It helps with stress," so Thire was offering him a technique that he used. That was way more thoughtful than what Fox initially assumed. Thire simply meant well. It made him feel like a complete jerk. Regardless, meditation seemed more like something that would cause him to have to actually confront his problems and that did not seem like the safest option at the moment.

But it got him thinking, "Maybe I'll try." Not just because of the stress relief, but it might be able to help him with the Force visions. If the Jedi used meditation to become more in tune with the Force, why couldn't he? The Force made no sense whatsoever, so it was worth a try at least. The worst-case scenario would be Palpatine finding out and forcing him to murder everyone in his proximity, so he had nothing to lose.

The acknowledgment of Thire's healthy coping mechanism appeared to have pleased his fellow commander as he was let through into the barracks. Despite the lack of space, there was an area clear enough for everyone to fit row by row. The weapon must not have that big of a blast range. He was genuinely curious about it now.

Thire started speaking, but it was like he couldn't hear him. Was he about to have another vision? It had got to be kidding him. Luckily, it wasn't that. The Force, most likely, was just messing with him for some reason or another. It was probably trying to make him focus more on what was to happen after his hearing came back. By the end of the explanation of the weapon, Fox could only hear that they were going to start. It was time to pay close attention. Thire went over to switch on a device that Fox had noticed until then. When turned on, it didn't appear to do anything but, one by one, troopers started reacting. It seemed that everyone was getting a headache of some form except Fox. He didn't know why but something was telling him to fake it; that he should not permit himself to be an outlier.

Thire groaned and clutched at his head, looking over at his brothers to see if everyone had been affected before turning off the device. He jabbed Fox in the side with his elbow as he joked,¨No wonder it's experimental.¨ Fox's instincts didn't appreciate the perceived threat even though the light nudge couldn't have done any harm. Internally, he was shocked and confused by what had happened. That had got to be one of the fastest weapon-testings they had ever had and the most consistent in its effects. He needed to get out of there.

He ended up rushing out of the barracks before Thire could talk further or he could respond. It would most likely go under Thire's growing list of his suspicious activity, but he didn't care. He desired to get away for a second and process what had just occurred. There had to be a connection between the weapon and the vision, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

The message of the divination finally clicked. The biochips...it had been about the biochips. They had been active during the vision, but the biochips appeared to have just been disabled. Could a vision be a possible past event? Something or someone must have deviated. Fox needed to find out what it was and how it would change the path to the future. He was willing to bet that the "weapon" that had been tested wasn't just sent to the Guard. Commander Cody must know about the biochips, but how did he find out? Who else knew? It was obvious they didn't know who was behind the chips because the Chancellor would have been apprehended, but he was relieved that at least some part of the plan had been dealt with. But that all begged the question: what exactly was the Chancellor using the biochips for and why hadn't he been affected?

\------

Anaxes was a real pain in the ass. Now that Fives thought of it, he should have heeded the result of the weapon testing as if it was a herald. Things had just gone downhill since the first day on this hellhole. That headache, oh Force, had sucked so fucking much and they had been sent out like right afterward. That was a horrible choice; it really started the siege off on a good note. Tup had, at the time, told him to stop being such a whiny bitch, but that lucky bastard hadn't been affected so he could shut the hell up. For some reason, the mystical, weapon-testing gods decided to go and spare Tup, Jesse, and Kix. Yes, he was slightly jealous. He knew deep down he was grateful Tup hadn't been impacted because he would have killed Cody if that had been the case.

Where was he? Oh, right, Anaxes. It was best to stray from such treasonous thoughts. Anaxes was just the worst and it was looking like the Separatists had finally gotten the whole Republic strategy thing down. It was weird because the usual 501st strategy, even with another battalion, was either "listen to the Force" or "listen to your gut instinct" so how had they gotten so flawlessly thwarted? What sort of bullshit analytics could predict a completely random formula?

The current stress of the siege made him appreciate the quiet moments such as being able to sleep for a few hours. Sleep was the best thing ever and whoever invented it was beyond their time, a true intellectual. Therefore, he was understandably irritated when he found his sleep disturbed before the end of the cycle.

"Tup, what are you doing?" he mumbled to the other person in the bunk. The culprit had been lightly brushing his fingers along Fives' jaw but quit abruptly when he realized his target was awake. Fives slowly opened his eyes to the sight of Tup, hair draping loosely and pooling in the length between them, frozen in surprise. Their faces were only a few centimeters apart and the shock had stopped the circulation of breath.

"Nothing," Tup pulled his hand away like it had been singed. It didn't really have anywhere to go so it ended up on Fives' shoulder. That did not help prove Tup's explanation. It was also paired with him looking everywhere but Fives; a clear giveaway that he was lying.

He glimpsed at the hand in skepticism before taking a glance at Tup, "Really? Because it looked like you were rubbing my face."

Tup persisted in avoiding his gaze and brought the offending hand fully away from Fives, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear before it went to his sides, "It was prickly and felt nice on my fingers." He couldn't see it in the dark but he believed Tup was blushing.

He tried to sustain some sort of shaving schedule, but it had become more inconsistent as the siege continued. He had no idea how anyone remained so clean-shaven. Like Kix, for example, with his overcomplicated, terrible buzz cut: how was he maintaining that? Maybe it was because he actually had time management skills. Anyway, the lack of shaving had left him with some stubble and, apparently, Tup liked it. He would have to store that information for a later date.

"Why are you up?" That wasn't the entire question, but the "and why are you bothering me" felt implied. It also seemed a little too accusatory because he would have been woken up even if Tup just moved a little bit. Sharing a bunk was not the best idea, but they didn't do it that often. It was mostly because they had to be in the mood to either cuddle, spoon, lay on top of each other, or be as close as possible as the bunks were not really made with more than one person in mind.

Tup visibly relaxed as he finally made eye contact with Fives, "I can't sleep. I was trying to get comfortable, but I got distracted."

"By my face?"

"It is very distracting." His eyelids were heavy and his words suggestive. He attempted to close the distance, but Fives pulled himself away. 

He wanted to give in, but right now wasn't the best time. "Stop trying to seduce me. Go to sleep."

Tup huffed and rolled his eyes at Fives, "I'm sure there are others who would appreciate my talents." There was the familiar undertone of a slight, but he wouldn't let Tup win so effortlessly.

He pretended to be aghast while he made his accusation, "You whore, is the child even mine?" Couples that improv together, stay together (Not like that.).

Tup was somewhat successful in maintaining his laughter, grinning in amusement, before dedicating himself to the scene. He poked Fives in the chest with the fury of a jilted admirer, "It's Kit Fisto's. Unlike you, he is an attentive lover."

Fives surrendered a mock gasp, "You know I can't compete with him: his rock hard abs, boyish charm-," he paused with a dreamy sigh, "-and beautiful smile.¨

Tup let out a smirk, "He is the peak of all sentient lifeforms."To be perfectly honest, if Tup had ever been given the chance to sleep with General Fisto he would have fully supported it. Still, he would've been disappointed if he wasn't invited.

"At least you didn't say, like, the Chancellor or something," Fives lightly snorted, but then things turned sour once he caught sight of Tup's reaction.

A pensive look had taken over his partner's face and, with a quirk of an eyebrow, he asked the worst question to ever come out of anyone's mouth in the entire history of the galaxy, "Honestly?"

"Wait, you're not actually considering it?" Force, _no_. Please, he didn't want...too late...the image was there now. Why was Tup like this?

Tup coyly looked at him and hummed in consideration, "He has aged pretty well." The disturbed aura of his riduur sent him further into a chuckle as he tried to defend himself, "Listen to me, Fives, let me reason with you. It's not what's on the outside, but what's on the inside that matters most. Specifically, the inside of his bank account."

He could tell that his disappointed glare was not having the desired effect as it merely made Tup find the situation even more humorous.

"I'm just saying that having Palpatine as a sugar daddy is a small price to pay for all that credit."

The thought of the Chancellor actually having a relationship with someone, let alone a sexual one, was revolting and disgusting and he never wanted to think about it ever again. It did make him curious about where he landed on Tup's standard scale: was he closer to the creepy, old man or the hot fish? Only one answer was acceptable.

Fives groaned in annoyance, "I did not consent to that being imprinted in my brain."

His comment only got him a light pat on the face and Tup condescendingly cooing at him, "My sweet, naive Fives, you set your sights too low."

They had gone full circle, Tup's hand was once more on his face, and it reminded Fives of how offtopic they had gotten, "Okay, seriously, go to sleep." Curse Tup and his ability to divert him.

" _Fine_ ," Tup ultimately gave in to Fives' demand with subtle reluctance. He laid into Fives' side, slightly on top of him, and used his chest as a pillow. Fives waited for a few seconds, taking in the calm, before closing his eyes.

He had almost been lulled back to slumber when he felt someone mumble into his chest, "I always liked the name Cyra."

He refused to open his eyes. This was the designated sleep time dammit. "I thought you said you were going to sleep."

He was blatantly ignored; Tup continued the sentiment, "I know we can't name them, but do you have any ideas?"

Okay, maybe he would open his eyes, "I've never really put that much thought into names." At least not further than basic nouns that could characterize a brother. He hadn't truly mulled over "real people" names.

"Yeah, I can tell," Tup flicked at the tattoo of a five on his temple and Fives couldn't help that he got a little offended. Yeah, he had thought it, but it didn't need to be acknowledged out loud. Tup often teased him about his lack of impulse control, but he had no idea how often Fives deterred himself from doing the stupid, mean shit he wanted to do. Alright, he sometimes cared about hurting the people around him.

He could have gone straight for the throat because Tup's name was a million times worse than his, but he was married to Mr. "have sexual intercourse with" so he wisely kept his mouth shut. He also didn't want to hear the "the use of tup as my name means ram like the animal, you uneducated womp rat" rant at that exact moment. (It was one of the first conversations they had had. Tup had almost immediately started stuttering out an apology once Dogma reminded him that he was disrespecting an ARC Trooper. Fives, on the other hand, thought it had been pretty stunning, maybe even a little hot, that a shiny stood their ground and didn't just roll over at his comments like he was used to. It was loud, though, and it was kind of the middle of the sleep cycle.).

He instead decided for the lame, weak, and pitiful response of, "That's a low blow," because he's smart like that. Truly, he was a master of wordplay. He really didn't need either of them to be more sleep-deprived. It was best to end the conversation as it was and not go further into talking. He understood they could talk for the rest of the sleep cycle, but he didn't feel like proving it. Anaxes was enough of a bitch as it was and he kind of preferred Tup being alive.

He finally got his wish as he felt Tup's breathing slow down, yawning out a final remark, "I wonder what their actual name will be." For a person who couldn't go to sleep before, he sure fell asleep fast.

He whispered out into the silence of the barracks, "Me too." Unlike Tup, he didn't find sleep so handily and it was somewhat hypocritical. Those last words had prompted him to think of the bittersweetness that would be his relationship with his child. These few months, before they were even born, might be the longest time he would ever spend with them and that really _sucked_. He didn't know how he was going to survive giving up another important person in his life. He would have to make the most of what time he had.

Tup was right about something: Cyra did sound like a nice name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is nothing if not oddly specific. I take my crack very seriously.


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, there’s more? Yes; there is a lot more. I have plans. My crackfic is going somewhere.

He definitely would have looked like an idiot if anyone walked in on him but he was trying, alright. No one had ever explained meditating to him. Then again, the only reason he hadn't asked Thire was that he assumed it would be easy. He'd seen Jedi do it countless times: how hard could it be? He was a fool. He had now been sitting on the floor of his office for two hours. He had crossed his legs. He had closed his eyes. He was being extremely patient. How cliche did he have to get before meditating actually started working?

Force, please do something. He had paperwork to do and he wanted to be able to sleep for just a little bit. The next day, he was to overlook some of the training of the new member of the Guard so it would be best if he wasn't sleep-deprived. He could barely look at the shiny, let alone train him, it only reminded him of why he was there. If only he hadn't been so selfish, maybe Cyto would still be alive. He tried not to dwell on it for too long, but he couldn’t put the notion away.

The newby seemed like a good kid, he didn't deserve Fox's dismissal, but there were a few things off about him. He acted like he had been completely flash trained, but only when it came to medical procedure. That was highly alarming because he was supposed to be the medic. He would have to watch him closely because he could tell that the kid either was a fast-grower or he had been wiped. His name was Fugue, whoever gave him that name was a shabuir, so it was probably the latter. Fast-growers were cannon fodder only sent to the frontlines to make it look like Kamino was producing more clones. Resources would not be wasted to make a fast-grower anything other than a basic trooper.

Arkanian clones (or fast-growers because the public couldn't know they didn't come from Kamino) and wiped clones were extremely unstable, so this was going to be rough to deal with on top of everything else. The mixing of memories often drove wiped clones to insanity as they tried to figure out their identity. They were kept on Kamino, usually low-ranking guards, so if they cracked they could be dealt with swiftly. Fugue was an outlier and there was the possibility that the Chancellor had requested him to be transferred to the Guard. He didn't know why Palpatine would do it, but it seemed like him. It might have been to put himself or the others at risk through an inexperienced medic, but who’s to say?

Fugue was sweet and slightly scatterbrained, but he couldn't trust him just yet. He was just as likely to murder a brother as Fox if he cracked. There was also the complication that, if he truly was a wiped clone, he was probably a criminal. Fox wondered what exactly this brother had done to be punished this way: to a clone, nothing was worse than having your individuality erased. The Kaminoans saw wiping as mercy or an acknowledgment that a clone had mainly desirable traits. A clone would rather die.

Aiding the adjustment of Fugue to the Guard, even though it reminded him of everything wrong about himself, was better than being alone with Palpatine. He had been getting even less done lately because Palpatine had been raving more about his stupid fucking plans while still be vague as shit. Fox could tell that Palpatine took pleasure in telling his plans to someone, especially when they were an unwilling participant of said plans. He had to have been his test dummy for speeches or at least a stress ball. He could tell when something or someone was contradicting Palpatine’s want because all the anger he hid under his facade was taken out on Fox. He had quickly learned that Palpatine really liked lightning. Now, every time he was sent to the Chancellor's office alone, he mentally prepared himself for possible electrocution. Palpatine would always heal Fox, but he could tell that the man craved for the day that he could leave him to die.

Nothing was worse than realizing that the reason Palpatine could control him was because of the baby. Before the child, Palpatine would have to see Fox in person and establish a bond. That bond would break within a few hours and would have to be reestablished if he wanted to use Fox again. With the child, Palpatine didn't need to re-establish the bond and it couldn't be broken, through either blunt force to the head or realizing he was being controlled, like before. It was a method practically seeping in the Dark Side of the Force and he had been revolted by how delighted Palpatine had been to inform him. He hated him so much. He wanted nothing more than to shoot Palpatine point-blank in the face. He could say with complete certainty that no one wanted to see the light drain from Palpatine's eyes more than him.

The one bright side of the whole thing was that he was not unaccompanied in the "Palpatine using you until you are no longer useful and then killing you" club. Dooku was the other member, unknowingly, but still there. He imagined that Dooku also did not know that he, Commander Fox, was a part of the plan and that he was pregnant with his Master's child. What a surprise that would be, but not as much of a surprise as Palpatine goading Skywalker into killing him. He hadn't been that shocked when Palpatine told him that he wanted Skywalker as his next apprentice and that Dooku would be killed. He liked the sound of Dooku dying.

Fox was still waiting for information about the chips, but he had to pretend he didn't know anything more than what Palpatine was willing to divulge to him. He just wanted to know what the biochips were for and, certainly, that wasn't too much to ask for?

He also wanted to know why he had Pounamu in the future. Were the chips in his brothers so that they would kill the Jedi? He was going to assume so because he had been told about the inquisitors of the Galactic Empire that would hunt down Jedi. However, Palpatine had yet to acknowledge the actual fall of the Republic and how it was going to play out. All he really knew were random tidbits that he couldn't use to stop anything.

He couldn't do anything and he was choosing to be useless. He could have been doing something. Instead, he had been sitting on the floor for two hours. Still, nothing had happened. The vision hadn't come. Of all the times, the Force decided to be silent now. This was dumb. This was so stupid. He really thought he could do something? He was the biggest fucking idiot. Of course, nothing would happen and he would have to endure this endless hell of visions and Palpatine for the next few months until he either got killed or he left like a coward. He couldn't talk to anyone. All he had was himself and a fucking fetus that was being used against him because he was too damn sentimental to abort it. _Shit_.

Tears threatened to escape his eyes and he gave in because he was weak and tired and overwhelmed. He shouldn't think like that. He shouldn't turn against himself or an innocent. He needed to direct his anger towards Palpatine. With his eyes closed and the room silent, he took the cool plastoid helmet off his face. His palms pressed into his eyes until the blackness became a continually moving pattern of barely-there black and white shapes. His skin was coarse as he wiped the tears off his face, leaving the residue of salt and water on his hands and cheeks. He reveled in the numbness of eyes and the lifeless feel of his hands. If he was going to feel nothing, it was going to be by his discretion.

Alright, he could do this. He was fine. Everything was fine. This was fine. Just because it didn't work, doesn't mean that he doesn't have some control over everything that was happening. Nothing has changed. Nothing has gotten better, but nothing has gotten worse either. He was alive. His son was alive. That was all he could hope for. He would make it through this.

Meditating wasn't even that bad if he just ignored the last few minutes. It had helped him collect his thoughts and it was nice to be able to do something without Palpatine's presence. It wouldn't matter to anyone else, but it mattered to him. Small victories win the war.

He was calm and that's why Thire had suggested meditation. He hadn't failed, he had just succeeded in a different way than he anticipated. He inhaled and opened his eyes on the exhale. It took his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the intrusion of light, but, once they did, he realized something.

This looked way too nice to be his office.

Holy crap, it worked. Thire, you genius. He would never doubt Thire ever again. This was so much better than nothing happening. This better be an actual vision or he was going to flip. By flip, he meant have another mental breakdown. He had just accepted his situation and he only got one of those a day; one breakdown was his limit.

Honestly, he had thought it would be more dramatic. Every Force-user and vision he had pointed to the Force being extremely dramatic. Fox could have been experiencing visions differently because he wasn't Force-sensitive. He couldn't exactly ask anyone, so all he could do was assume. Keeli might’ve known. He could have gone through the same thing, but he would never be able to ask even if he was still alive.

He rose from where he was sitting on the ground of an empty room. It looked like it might be in the Jedi temple, similar architecture and calm hue, so it probably was. He prayed that it was not going to be another vision like the biochip one. He liked that it hadn't happened, but he also liked knowing what was transpiring.

That was not going to be the case. The opening of the lone door broke him from his thoughts and a clone trooper walked in. They were part of the Coruscant Guard based on the dark red painted onto their armor and, yeah, that was his armor. Guess he had no choice but to see himself. He stepped out of the way of...himself...as he walked across the room. He looked around to see what they were heading towards. There had to be something that brought him to this place and he was right. He saw himself standing in front of a child cowering in the corner of the room. The child was a red Nikto; the child was his niece. At least the Force was willing to answer some questions. He couldn't be picky.

He watched from a distance as the other him stood in front of their brother's daughter. He stood far enough away from the child that he would not be perceived as a threat while also trying not to block the exit.

He could tell that he was making an effort to change the tone and pitch of his voice so as not to frighten the child further, "Hi, my name is Fox. Would you mind telling me your name?"

"Pounamu," she let out weakly, cowering further into the wall.

"That is a really pretty name. Would you like to leave this place, Pounamu?"

She allowed herself to lean out of the safe embrace of the corner, "You won't hurt me?" Okay, what had happened? Pounamu, of all Jedi younglings, should not be afraid of a clone trooper. Kark, was that what the biochips were for? Getting rid of the Jedi? He had hoped they weren't, but this would prove otherwise.

With sincerity he suspected the child hadn't heard in a while, he answered, "I would never hurt you."

The girl momentarily thought over the words and almost stepped forward to leave with the Trooper. She hesitated and Fox recognized that she did not fully trust him. She had every right not to.

The other him realized this as well. Even with the helmet, he could see that he was attempting to find the best way to convince her to come with him. It needed to be her choice so that a base of trust could be created. He could practically see the relief permeating through himself when he came up with what to say.

"Do you want to know a secret?"

She nodded, relaxing even more, and she was now separated completely from the wall. There was a slight twitch in her eyes as she looked at the door, but she appeared intrigued by the mystery.

He had gotten her attention and he breathed out a sigh of relief. He tested the bounds of the trust as he kneeled in front of her, "I owe it to my brother, Keeli, to see you out of here unharmed."

Pounamu tilted her head in confusion, no longer scared by the stranger, and it reminded Fox that she would have been far too young to remember her parents. She had to be around three, so she probably wouldn't even remember this. It honestly depended on how her brain handled traumatic memories. She shouldn't have even been going through this.

"He was-," there was a pause; a reorganizing of words as he realized that it wasn't the best time to tell his niece of her parentage. "-he gave you your name. You are a blessing of the Manda just like your namesake. He cared so much about you." He pitied Keeli and his General: they died believing their child would be somewhat safe in the hands of the Jedi.

While the girl was still confused, she took the hand of the man as he stood up. They left the room together and Fox followed behind them.

He had never seen the Temple that empty before. It more or less reminded him of what the Jedi temple had been like after the bombing. It was weird to see such a lively place completely desolate. The usual, light aura of the endless halls was replaced by a sense of eerie foreboding. As he observed them, he realized how deep into the Temple the girl had gone to hide. She could've been separated from a group of younglings and it made Fox wonder where they might be. The voice niggling at the back of his head weaved thoughts of loss into his mind and he knew it was correct. The younglings were dead and straying from the group had saved Pounamu.

They were moving at a leisurely rate, but the clone trooper was tense and mindful of his surroundings. He was preparing for a possible attack. That was confirmed as blaster shots went off in a hallway adjacent to the one they were in; cries echoed in harmony with the marching of feet. The girl froze in recognition of the sound and fear of what could happen, but the clone continued walking. He quickly picked the kid up, placing her against his hip, and started a more brisk walk.

She tried to look over the man's shoulder,¨What was that?" The girl knew what it was, but the natural curious response had been ingrained into her and she had no choice but to ask with childlike naivete. It gave the situation a sense of normalcy.

They were closer to exit and the trooper was trying to not get caught off guard, so that was why he had taken an easily controlled pace. It also appeared he was heading towards the main entrance which seemed weird for a situation like this.

"It's nothing, just look at me." Both the child and the man knew that was a lie, but, by the desperation in his own voice, they both wanted it to be the truth.

Fox had an ability that the girl didn't, for he looked back. He regretted his choice immediately because all he saw was death. Bodies varying in gender, species, and age were strewn across the floor; the singe of plasma was in the air and in their clothes. He couldn't even tell how many there had been as their carcasses mixed together haphazardly: a mixing of blood, bone, and marrow.

Among the bodies of the Jedi, there was a vod with 501st blue. Along with the dirt and grime that stained their armor, there were the scars of melted plastoid: the burns of a lightsaber had been slashed recklessly against his torso. With horror, he knew he could longer deny it. This death, this destruction, was the purpose of his vode and he had never been so thankful for Cody. The chips had been disabled, so this couldn't be the current timeline. Yet, that didn't mean that Palpatine wouldn't still be able to create his empire. The Jedi genocide could still happen as long as he lived.

He hurried away from the sight and caught up with the focal point of the vision. They were nearly out of the Temple. He almost let himself unwind until he caught sight of a shadow blocking their path.

Pounamu's attention went to the hooded figure that stood near the entrance. She shouted out to the figure with faith in her eyes," Master Skywalker." She didn't seem to notice how the man holding her tensed up. Fox did, however, and anxiety clenched his heart as he distressed over their inevitable escape. Fox's trust in Skywalker was non-existent and that appeared to hold true even in this future.

The trooper shushed the child as they continued walking towards their exit.

He continued walking towards Skywalker.

Fox kept a few steps away from the events occurring, but he could plainly see Skywalker's face softening as the young girl tried to talk to him only to be shushed again. The blue of his eyes stormed and swirled as he found resolve and visage turned apathetic and stagnant. He would fall to the Dark Side as Palpatine planned.

Future him appeared to loosen up as he finally passed the hooded man, but that was shattered once Skywalker grabbed him by the arm. "I only allow you and the youngling to live because my Master has willed it. I would end you without hesitation." The anger of the last sentence was directed towards Fox only. Skywalker could really hold grudges. It was most likely because he had killed Fives in this timeline, but he would bet that some of the anger stemmed from his padawan leaving the Order. He could associate that with Fox and Palpatine would definitely enforce that idea. He couldn’t defend himself against it because he did make bad decisions with his own free will, but, at the time, they were understandable. He would do things differently if he had a chance to go back, but it wasn’t the worst he could have done.

He didn't care about the dislike, but what really disgusted him was that Skywalker, who thought himself above everyone else, was down to kill children. Palpatine was a master manipulator if Fox had learned anything, but he couldn't excuse the atrocities that had been committed. He couldn't even forgive himself for all that Palpatine had made him do, so he couldn’t be expected to forgive the monster that stood before him.

He ripped himself out of the Sith's grip in indignation. The child in his arms pressed her face against his neck in fright as she realized the cruel intentions of the man she had once trusted. He subtly tightened his grip around her as he taunted Skywalker, "You know why he wants her, but will Sidious ever respect you enough to tell you what his plans for me are?"

Fox saw one of Skywalker's fists tighten and he recognized the sizzle of the Force in the atmosphere.He wanted to strangle him; he recognized the anger of a sith.Palpatine had Force-choked him enough that he could recognize that and he had been threatened by Skywalker this way before.

Future Fox was not impressed, looking at Skywalker with disdain, and he tsked, "Control yourself." He turned his back to the fuming Sith, dismissing him as a threat, and went back on his path to the entrance. Without looking back, he threatened, " Wouldn't want your Master to find out you ruined his plans."

"There are many who can substitute you."

He stopped himself, not at all surprised by the arrogance in his tone, and looked back, "Kill me then, but you will only find how replaceable you are." He knew his place, but did Skywalker know his? Once he saw that Skywalker was too much of a coward to act on his word, he left. He finally got out of the Temple with his life and a traumatized child in his arms. He had escaped the Temple but not Palpatine.

As he watched himself walk out, he closed his eyes as he inferred that was all he needed to see. He reopened them to his office. Thank you, office, for being a constant. The only person he trusted was his office and that was a fact. When you have enough mental breakdowns in a room, it starts to grow on you.

His helmet was on the floor in front of him and he picked it up as he stood. He could do paperwork in the morning because he was going to sleep. He didn't care.

As he sunk into the uncomfortable brick that was his bunk, he started to ponder over what he had seen. His thoughts turned easily to his niece and he knew that he had been permitted to take her either because she was going to become an inquisitor, Palpatine had explained that younglings had been kidnapped for that, or she was going to be used as leverage. Both of those situations had probably made him want to leave even more.

On top of that, if the biochips were for killing the Jedi, there was no reason that he should not have had a functional chip. Unless Palpatine had disabled it so he would not get himself killed or kill himself. He could have believed that he controlled Fox enough to the point that the chip became obsolete.

What really bothered Fox was that, based on what he now knew, the empire was probably formed legally. His logic for this was that no one would allow a man who started the genocide of a people to lead unless those people had been declared enemies of the state. Fox understood that Palpatine loved democracy, politics, dramatic irony, and manipulating the Senate, so it would make sense that he would do everything legally.

Come to think of it, Contingency Order 66 existed and, although it was an order for the removal of specific Jedi officers, it could hypothetically be used for a purge. If the Jedi, or a single Jedi, did what could be seen as an act of treason, they could become enemies of the state. It would most likely be done after Palpatine had revealed he was the Sith Lord to the Jedi and only them.

Making the Jedi the enemy of the state and having himself democratically elected as Emperor would be the easiest part of Palpatine’s plan. The majority of the senators were either in Palpatine’s pocket or willing to blindly do anything to end the war. The Jedi were associated with the war even though they were just as much an unwilling participant as everyone else. The Senate wouldn't care about that because they were all driven by selfishness and emotion. They would want to end the war without taking responsibility for it and would find a scapegoat. (It reminded him of the Republic financial reform bill that had been passed which, if you actually understood the Kaminoan cloning process, was a complete scam. A good portion of his brothers had actually supported the passing of the bill because it made all the clones troopers, cadets, and future clones property of the Republic instead of Kamino.)

Honestly, he thought he cracked the code. He finally might know what the hell is going on. He doesn’t know what will exactly lead up to the fall of the Republic or any signs to look for, but he was slowly climbing his way out of the dark. Maybe he could do this.

\------

Fives could tell the pacing was starting to get on Kix´s nerves, but, if he hadn’t wanted Fives to pace, he shouldn't have invited him. Well, technically Tup invited him, but Kix still allowed it. The three of them were in the medbay which was not exactly the most private place, but everyone inside was a clone and the majority of them were passed out. The mortality rate had risen exponentially since they had been stationed on Anaxes and, along with that, the amount of injured. So what Fives was trying to say was there were a lot of people near death which made the whole pregnancy thing kind of ironic.

It wasn’t like they had a better place to be or a better time. Since arriving on Anaxes, the schedule had become everything but lax and it was harder to find any downtime. It especially became impossible since the Separatists recently captured the main production facility, so they were kind of fucked. Kix had decided that the best time to do a checkup was right before he and Fives were sent out to the Cyber Center because it was legitimately the only free time they had had in weeks.

Fives had no idea what natborn pregnancy was like but it probably wasn’t like this. The pregnancy was about halfway done and Tup was not showing at all. He swore up and down that there was a difference but Fives was not buying it. Based on what Kix had said clones didn’t start showing until later and, even then, not that much. A clone would be able to recognize that it was a pregnancy whereas a natborn might think they just ate more than the bare minimum to live or that they had a tumor. Tup’s health, however, was not the reason he was pacing. He knew Tup was fine, but what he did not know was starting to irk him.

"I still don't understand how the Seps are doing this."

Kix sighed in annoyance," It's a strategic algorithm." Fives knew Kix was done with his theories, but it was time to go over them again.

"Yeah, I got what Rex said, but I don't believe it. He isn't saying something,” he took a thoughtful pause after his statement.

“Are you waiting for us to ask you what you think Rex is hiding?” Tup asked as Kix groaned at the fact he was letting Fives proceed. Tup let out an innocent smile to the medic who was not having it.

With fake modesty and a stroke of his beard, he answered the question, "Tup, I wasn't going to continue, but since you insist. An algorithm just doesn't make sense. How would that know Rex's instinct-"

"You know he has actual battle plans, right?" Kix bluntly halted his rant, exasperated by his stupidity.

Fives snickered at the thought, "No, he doesn't." Echo had been fooled by Rex’s “battle plans'' as well. Supposedly, he had even helped Rex create a few, but he wouldn't tell Fives what they were. Therefore, Rex had none.

He continued the thought despite knowing that Kix believed he was being ridiculous," The only way the Seps could even create an algorithm was if someone that knew Rex personally helped them. There are only a few people that know him well enough to know his strategy." He subtly looked at Kix, but he didn't have his helmet on so it was really obvious.

Kix did not find the accusation remotely funny. He finished what he was doing (Fives had no idea what he had been doing). He signaled to Tup that the checkup was over before he went up to Fives and smacked him upside the head. “Seriously?” he hissed.

Fives had expected this reaction and shrugged in mock ignorance. Kix was pretty anti-Republic.He was loud with his opinions but not the political ones. However, if you got him drunk enough, he would rant about the corruption of the Republic and Lasats (Kix was convinced that Jango's family tree had a few Lasats in it. Some vode had purple skin, fur or hair. There were cases where a child had no umbilical cord, or placenta, and was healthy. Also, clones had naturally small offspring. All signs that pointed to Lasat heritage.). Kix had flat-out told him once that his son was the reason he was so anti-Republic. It was a little strange because Jesse seemed extremely pro-Republic based on the giant tattoo on his face.

Tup had stood up at Kix's signal and started putting on his armor. He had started laughing at Fives’ expense as he was whacked by Kix. He quickly calmed down and then took Kix’s side like a traitor,” I don't think that there is an informant. Not for this at least.”

The one difference between Tup and Kix is that he took Tup’s addition seriously. He could tell Kix was annoyed by this but relieved nonetheless. “Yeah, you may be right, but there is definitely something. He's been acting strange lately. You should've seen him look at the photo that he has of when Echo and I became ARCs. I understand mourning Echo, but he looked at it like I was dead too.” It was completely disconcerting and unnerving. He hadn’t been able to look Rex in the eyes since and it had been a week.

"Are you sure you're not dead?" Tup asked him in jest as he sauntered over to him.

"I'm pretty sure,” he deadpanned. Was this what it felt like to be Kix because he felt really attacked. He frowned as Tup jokingly poked him in the side to see if he was telling the truth. This only caused Tup to give him the same virtuous look he gave Kix.(This is what he gets for taking Tup seriously? Tup was the informant all along. He had been bamboozled. Kix was but a diversion. Of course, what a clever clone. He would have never suspected it.)

Kix interjected, well, it was more like a whisper, "That's weird."

"You see, " he dramatically motions towards the medic," Kix understands." He had doubted him, but he pulled through in the end.

Kix put away the datapad he had in his hand and squinted at him," Fives, not everything is about you. It's just-,” he exhaled heavily,”-kark, I wish I had an ultrasound."

Tup wrapped his arms around his abdomen protectively, fidgeting as he waited for a response,” Is something wrong?" Tup sounded and looked apprehensive and it made Fives forget the mockery that had just occurred.

Kix realized that he had freaked out Tup and reassured him," It's nothing to worry about." Tup relaxed slightly as his arms went to his sides, but he wasn’t fully convinced. Tup and Fives were both curious and concerned over what Kix’s desire for an ultrasound meant.

"If you feel like you need an ultrasound that bad. Why don't you lie and say he's internally bleeding?" He didn't like it when Tup got anxious about something and it was his duty to help his husband in any way that he could. He had had this question for a long time and it was nice to finally gain closure.

"Because internal bleeding is a lot of resources. Tup is just an everyday trooper and, even if it was acknowledged, he would be sent to Kamino. I can't repair blood vessels." There they were: the slightly anti-Republic beliefs. It wasn't what he said, but how he said it; distaste and insolence were etched deep in his words from years of mistrust.

"But you can do a tumor removal?" Tup queried. Good, he was relaxed enough to pick on Kix.

Kix was taken off-guard but he was quick to recover, "I have a limited, wide range of abilities. It just so happens that General Skywalker felt guilty that day and you know we had a scan available." Fives still thought that it was strange that they had the specific scan needed, but he would take what he could get.

However, he still decided to inject another one of his opinions in the conversation, "How the hell does that give you the ability to do brain surgery?"

"Wow, I didn't realize you were a doctor,” Kix stated with fake shock.

Tup snorted, "Like you are one either." That was why he had married Tup: they antagonized together and each other.People were fooled by the sweet exterior, but he was just as much of an asshole as Fives. This was the person he had chosen to love and he had made the correct choice.

Kix looked Tup dead in the eye, pointing at him, and called them both out on their bullshit, "Stop ganging up on me." He then smoothly changed the subject as he looked at the medbay clock, "We better start heading off or Rex will get mad at us."

Oh right, that thing still existed. Kind of didn’t feel like doing that, but when had he ever had an option? But it was his duty. He had sworn his loyalty to the Republic. Why was he thinking like this? Ah, shit, Kix was right: becoming a parent does make you more anti-Republic.

"Stay safe," Tup ordered as Kix started leaving the room.

Kix said over his shoulder, "That's why I'm going and not Jesse.”

Jesse was an ARC Trooper now which was amazing, honestly, he deserved it. Rex had considered taking Jesse and Fives on the mission, but then Kix had reminded him of their luck when it came to injuries. Fives was still going because he was more experienced as an ARC Trooper and Kix was going because he was a medic. They needed to travel with the smallest number of people possible and that was the best option.

Kix left the room, not noticing that Fives was not following him. Once he had left, Tup emphasized back at him, "Seriously, stay safe."

"When have I ever not been safe?"

Tup raised an eyebrow at his conceit, "I don't know if you can recall, but I distinctly remember being ordered to execute you via firing squad."

He cringed at the validity of the statement, "It was a rhetorical question. You're not really supposed to-"

He was halted by a brief brush of lips against his own with Tup pulled away just as he realized what was happening. He was a tease.

Tup held eye contact with him as he pulled his forehead softly against his own,” Just come back in one piece.” He wasn’t just coming back for Tup and they both recognized that. Fives hugged Tup against his chest as his arms wrapped his waist and they both relaxed into the soothing embrace of their partner. It was nice to have moments like that where they could just be.

It was ruined by a clap for attention, "Aye lovebirds, we're on a tight schedule here.”

Fives pulled away first, much to Tup’s displeasure, and picked up his helmet. He and Tup followed Kix out of the medbay. Right before they are to head their separate ways, Fives took Tup by the hand, "You are not exempt from staying safe by the way."

His riduur smiled back at him, reassuringly squeezing his hand with the glove that was once his own before he let go. Fives watched as Tup put on his helmet and joined a group of troopers. He watched as he became another member of a faceless army and dissolved into the crowd.

He continued his journey sans Tup to the barracks where Kix was waiting for him. They leaned against the ramp as they waited for Cody and Rex to show up and took part in some small talk. He learned that Tup wouldn't have to worry. According to Kix, the squad they were going in with had a hundred percent success rate. Yeah, it all depended on how they got the success rate, but a hundred percent is still a hundred percent.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the subtley of a brick being thrown at your face.
> 
> Almost to the Bad Batch Arc. It shall be smooth sailing from here as I try to guess what might happen in the next few episodes. It is like a choose your adventure book. With episode nine, I made my first choice. You will not be seeing that choice for a few chapters.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bad Batch episode, but Fives exists and I sprinkled in some crack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck the Galactic Standard Calendar. I’m doing Gregorian. AU where the Gregorian Calendar is used.

Cody was willing to admit that he thought the whole biochip conspiracy would be easy to deal with once they figured out how to disable them. He was also willing to admit that he was a complete di'kut. Nonetheless, he would only admit it to himself in a location far, far away from Obi-Wan. He would never let him live it down.

It had been weeks since the chip disabling process had begun and it was not even remotely done. They had gotten every clone that was deployed at the beginning of the disabling. However, that didn't cover the shinies, fast-growers, cadets, and even deserters who still had functioning chips. That was millions of clones. They were trying to get the shinies' and fast-growers' chips disabled as soon as they were shipped out, but it was hard to hide that something was up when you enforce a new test that every incoming batch needs to take. He was just praying that no one brought it up to the Kaminoans.

In the midst of the disabling, he had observed that there were types of clones that had already had their biochips disabled: wiped clones, clones with brain damage, and clones with not fully developed chips. It made sense, but only after Blitz had called him in a panic had he remembered there was a fourth group. General Ti had been the first one to notice this group that had disabled chips, in fact, they had no chips to begin with, and had mentioned it to Blitz to see if he might have an explanation. It wasn't strange that certain cadets had no chips. What differentiated this group from the others was that the cadets' files from when they were in their decant chambers showed a great probability of them being stillborn, but they all had amazing recoveries in the last few weeks they were in their chambers. This was not commonplace among healthy cadets and it appeared to be a new occurrence that started a little over five years before.

Cody pitied Blitz because he had no idea why General Ti decided to go looking into certain files. It was totally unprecedented and came out of nowhere from Blitz's perspective. He felt extremely guilty about not being able to help Blitz understand, but he had been sworn to secrecy. Blitz was trying his best to do damage control so that his General wouldn't find out the truth of what set those cadets apart. He had lied and said that they were vod'ike that were going to be decommissioned for an unknown reason and that they just swapped them with stillborns. That was the practiced answer among the troopers on Kamino if Shaak Ti noticed the second-generation. By some miracle, this was one of the best possible ways to explain Ti's discovery (The Kaminoans would have realized that some clones didn't have chips while in the decant chamber and would have logically gotten rid of them. The purpose of the clones was to get rid of the Jedi Order through the control of the chips, so a clone that couldn't do that was useless).

Shaak Ti wasn't just looking at the records of cadets: she was also looking for who the mastermind behind the scheme was. They believed it to be the Sith Lord, Dooku's master, but they had no idea who it was. Obi-Wan had brought up how Dooku had once mentioned that they were someone with power in the Senate, but that barely narrowed it down and his word was unreliable at best. The only reason they were following that lead was that Obi-Wan had started to believe the claim that he had before brushed aside and General Windu had sensed the potential truth of the statement.

He needed a vacation. He really did. The biochip bullshit was way more than he had been trained for. It really kept him on his feet and he hated it. The only good thing coming from the whole ordeal was that if he ever killed Obi-Wan it would be of his own free will. That was how he liked it.

Cody was more than ready to go to the Cyber Center. The Siege on Anaxes had gone on for too long and so many brothers had marched on. They were constantly getting new shipments of troopers to replace those that had died and constantly having to disable their chips. He could say with full confidence that at least 30% of the troopers on Anaxes were shinies. Furthermore, they were shinies with varying levels of experience, and, as the siege continued, the new squads morphed from mostly Kaminoan clones to completely Arkanian clones.

The deaths were rising at a rate that Cody had not seen in a long time. They weren't sending out medics into the field anymore because once a medic died they weren't being replaced. The medic problem was getting bad enough that the medics that were still alive were taking random troopers under their wing and teaching them how to do more than the basic procedure that every clone could do. The only reason he was allowing Kix to go on this mission was that if someone was injured the chances of being able to make it back without a medic were slim to none. He trusted the Bad Batch, but he did not trust them when it came to health and safety.

It was becoming more and more clear that the Kaminoans were running out of troopers to send into the field and he had even heard rumors that they were planning on lowering the deployment age again. The Arkanian clones were covering things up in the eyes of the public, but there was only a finite amount of clones.

Cody was numb to death. He had lived his whole life with the people he cared about dying around him. They were either killed for a reason they couldn't control or they died in their service to the Republic. He was no stranger to loss as it was practically sewn into the DNA of all of his vode. He, like most clones, could bottle their feelings deep inside where they would never be seen again. It made them apathetic, it made them basically droids, but it was all they could do. From a young age, he had been taught that reacting to trauma would only get him disposed of. All brothers could bury their feelings with their dead, but it sometimes wasn't enough to keep them from reacting. It might take weeks, days, or years, but everything would build up and they would have no control over the regurgitation of emotion. He had seen it before. Watching a brother drop their weapon and walk into a blaster bolt wasn’t as rare as it should’ve been.

After Waxer's death, Boil had become ruthless: working with frightening efficiency and drive. He barely ate, barely slept, and barely lived. He had prepared himself for when Boil would break. Cody didn’t want Boil’s kids to lose another parent, but it never happened. Some clones don't break; they fundamentally change themselves. They removed themselves from everything that they believed to be the root of their failure...their pain. Boil had believed he had been too lenient, too soft, and that the only person he could rely on was himself. He learned about this way of coping with Boil and he could tell that it had happened for Fives as well. The consequence of Echo's passing was that Fives was more willing than ever to go against the word of a higher-up when he believed what they were doing was wrong. He couldn't lose any more of the people he cared about. It had been apparent on Umbara and it had been apparent on Ringo Vinda.

What really made him think of Fives' reaction to Echo's death was the theory that Rex had told him right before they left for the Cyber Center. His belief completely shrouded in misplaced hope that was, honestly, something Rex should be informing Fives about and not him. If he truly believed that Echo was alive, Fives had every right to know. Yes, it would emotionally destroy him for the second time if it turned out to be false, but he believed that Fives had more of a support system than the first time. He had more to live for than just Echo at the moment and he had already mourned the loss of his brother. Who was he kidding?Rex was right: it was probably not the best to tell Fives. This time Fives would crack and he would take more than himself down with him.

He had been prepared to leave after Rex had trusted him with his speculation, but he stopped in his tracks as Rex asked him a long-awaited question. Rex hadn't stood up from where he had sat on the bunk as Cody thought he would and, as he looked up, he proved to Cody once again that he never forgot, "When Fox called you, you didn't tell me the whole truth."

It took him a second to remember what Rex was talking about, but his mind turned quickly enough to the wedding that had occurred roughly two months ago. He recalled the staggering silence of breath that had persisted the length of the call that had drained the calm from his mind. It had shocked him then and it still did now. He was going to answer, but his hesitation was taken as a refusal.

Before he could reply, Rex continued, "I told you about Echo, so you can tell me about Fox." That was why he had told him: leverage. He knew that there was some hidden motive.

He honestly didn't remember what he had thought at the moment of the call, so he offered the basic facts, "Thorn commed me a few days before his death. He thought Fox killed one of his brothers and covered it up as desertion. I don't know why Fox called me, but it might've been related." That sounded enough like something he would believe.

He trusted Fox. They got on each other's nerves occasionally, but Fox genuinely wanted to do the best for his vode and the Republic. He also did the Chancellor's paperwork and was surrounded by senators on a daily basis, so he was one of the best sources when it came to gossip. It was how the general clone population knew about fast-growers (Now that he thought about it, Fox had been unusually quiet when it came to giving information to the clone gossip mill). He had even briefly contemplated over convincing the Council to inform Fox about the biochips because he would be able to more closely inspect the Senate, but a voice pushing in the back of his head told him not to. Fox had enough on his plate. He shouldn't tell him anything.

Rex appeared to be pleased with the explanation and got up from the bunk. He walked passed Cody towards the exit and looked back at him with a smirk, "Was that so hard?"

It really hadn't been and he was confused as to why he decided not to say anything before. Drunk Cody was completely foolish, so it was probably nothing. But he couldn't help thinking that he forgot something important.

\------

It was nice to get out of the medbay for a little bit even if it was for a suicide mission. He hadn't slept in five days and he was running on only caf and stubbornness. There were too many damn people being sent to the medbay and sleep meant taking a break. Breaks were what led to deaths that would have been preventable if he hadn't been lazy and careless. He knew it was the mentality that the Kaminoans expected him to have: wanting to work himself to death for the greater good. But he wasn't doing it for the greater good of the Republic, he was doing it for his vode. He was doing it for the troopers that were getting progressively younger every new squad. He was doing it for the troopers who were grown too fast for their bodies to handle, who only knew the embrace of armor, who refused medical attention because they had been brainwashed into believing they only lived to die, and who were too kriffing sacrificial for their own good.

Shinies and fast-growers were the worst when it came to being treated for injuries.

He knew the adverse side effects of sleep deprivation quite personally. He knew he would inevitably end up passing out from exhaustion, but he also knew his limit. He could make it a few more days. He had taken a thirty minutes nap the day before and, in all honesty, it really shouldn't have been considered a nap because he just closed his eyes. He was very much aware of everything happening and he had not allowed himself to fall into the persuasion of deeper sleep. He just considered it a nap because he was desperate and so that, when Jesse would ask him when the last time he had slept was, the answer would be more reasonable.

His choice to stay up was finally questioned once the squad they were going in with made their grand entrance. The members of the squad didn't even look like clones, more like Jango's distant cousins, but he didn't think about it that deeply because he thought he was hallucinating. One of the other side effects of not sleeping was slowly growing more and more delirious. He was just going through the motions and it reminded of the one time he tried spice. Well, not tried, it was more along the lines of forced to try. There was that surreal, lightweight feeling and everything just looked a little off; he couldn't shake the deep-seated suspicion that he had of the people around him.

Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair, and Hunter: he didn't recognize that he wasn't imagining them until he remembered that Cody had said something about desirable mutations. That actually made a lot more sense than them being apparitions. Then again, after Cody had said desirable Fives immediately boasted, "Oh? Like my ten-inch dick." He wanted that, needed that, to be a hallucination.

The squad was weird as hell, but sometimes that's just how it was (He would debate that Fives was worse than them). He had seen more out there mutations, but, of course, those vode had ended up decommissioned. He was fascinated by the Bad Batch, which definitely sounded like a fake name, and he wanted to know why their mutations were deemed useful. He pondered over if their mutations were natural or if the Kaminoans altered their DNA on purpose.

He couldn't tell exactly for the other three, but he believed that Wrecker's mutation was natural. It really showed that he was right about them having Lasat ancestors and that Fives could take his opinions and shove them up his sheb.Just like how female clones naturally occurred, Wrecker probably did as well. He exhibited the characteristics of a Lasat with XYY sex chromosomes. In a full-blooded human, it would create a tall, frail male. However, in Lasats, it would create a taller, more muscular male that, albeit a little on the dumb side, had evolved in such a way to attract carriers better. This stayed true for people with Lasat ancestors and he had actually wondered before why he had only seen XX and XY clones.

Wrecker was definitely as boisterous and loud as an alpha male. Even with the other members of the squad being more silent, they all had very loud personalities and prejudices. He could handle their hostility towards those they believed lesser than them, but the moment that Fives was called a reg he almost reacted. It was said with such disgust and contempt as if talking to a pitiful, worthless animal and it confirmed his thought on why Jesse was not there. Fives could keep his mouth shut when necessary and his will to live was probably the strongest it had ever been because of Tup and their ad'ika. Kix could keep silent as well. He carefully skimmed the surface of what could be said: statements of disbelief seemed to be the way to go.

Jesse would not have been able to do this and he would have antagonized the squad further. He could tell the others were trying to goad them into a conflict, but all the "regs" on the mission were too depleted for that bullshit. If Jesse had been here, he would've gotten punched. Kix would have felt morally obligated to protect and/or defend the honor of his husband and he would have also gotten punched. Fives keeping his mouth shut was the saving grace of the operation and he was planning on thanking Tup for it afterward. He was legitimately the one person Fives listened to.

The slight weightlessness before a sudden crash, his hand instinctively tightening above his head on the one thing that would give him support, was the most expected thing of the whole mission. He knew getting to the Cyber Center was going to be difficult and he had sensed that someone was going to get killed before they even got there. The death of the pilot had been out of his control, he felt guilty that he didn't even know their name, but he could help Cody to the best of his ability.

Being a part of the 501st for as long as he had, coming out of a crash was as natural as breathing. What differed from the norm was his reaction to Wrecker helping him out of the crash. Wrecker had helped the majority of them out, but the way Wrecker's hands had dwarfed his own festered deep inside him. It prompted a split second of thought: a hand curved on his hip, the faint touch of hands going down the inner part of his thighs as they were spread, and the weight on top of him pushing deep into his body. He was no stranger to lust and he wasn't one to shy away from it. Maybe Fives hadn't been that far off because Wrecker definitely had a big dick.

Unlike Fives.

He was immediately turned off once Wrecker started talking again, brashly insulting the "regs", and that was when he noticed that Cody had been pinned under the wreckage. He had been flabbergasted when Wrecker had gone to rescue Cody himself and had been confused further by Hunter's claim that he was going to be getting the gunship, not Cody. Picking up a gunship was not the most natural thing ever, so maybe the Kaminoans had altered him or enhanced traits that were already there.

However, it could have still stemmed from natural instinct. Not to protect but to show off.It was a show of dominance and capability to impress a mate and, though Wrecker was doing it unintentionally, it had worked. The armor covered up too much in Kix's opinion. He yearned to see the strain of muscle and the glistening sweat slipping down his body. His legs felt weak as his blood rushed down, and there was a tinge of greedy lust in his stomach that subtly grew into nausea.

Maybe the situation had been triggered by pheromones that they could barely detect and were subliminally affecting their decisions. Maybe there were pheromones telling Wrecker that there was someone nearby who had carried while young and was familiarized with the curve of a healthy child. Maybe there were pheromones telling Kix how fertile the other man was and how he could fill him with strong, healthy children. Or maybe it was because Sleep-deprived Kix was full of primeval desire: to protect, to provide, to procreate (Sleep-deprived Kix was a very horny individual who did not deal with unimportant things like logic. It was why he never had sex when he hadn't slept in a few days because he knew he would do something really kriffing stupid).

The number of clankers that were sent to apprehend them after the crash seemed a bit excessive, but he thought they could handle them. The refusal to sit and wait for the droids to come to them from Hunter did not surprise him as much as it would have. He was getting the feeling that this squad took pleasure from living on the edge. He hadn't paid much mind to the assault that had taken place, he had been too preoccupied with Cody, but what he had seen was impressive. Fives' eyes shined with childish glee, practically jumping with excitement, and Kix understood him well enough to tell he wanted to partake in the maneuver. Taking insane risks and basking in the adrenaline of battle were just parts of who Fives was.

The Bad Batch ran into the situation without hesitation and took on the battle with ease and joy; they were crazy. It reminded him of-

With dawning realization, he understood why he was so attracted to Wrecker: he reminded him of Hardcase. Hardcase would have gotten along well with Wrecker and that was the bittersweet thought that pricked relentlessly at his mind.

The loss of Hardcase had put a strain on his and Jesse's relationship that lasted for weeks. They had grown used to Hardcase's presence, but they had lived in his absence before. He was their best friend and, even though they had never had an official relationship, they had loved him dearly. Hardcase had never been one for more than a sexual relationship and they had respected that.

Umbara had changed everything. He thought of it as the universal backlash for the mistakes he had made when he was young and dumb and scared. He had always hated himself for the pain he had put Jesse through, but it had dimmed as he aged. He knew that Jesse had never held it against him, but he couldn't help it. He had saved him when he had hit the lowest point of his life and he was forever indebted to him. The revulsion was renewed after his mind was numbed and blinded by grief as Jesse accepted his death. He had made Jesse suffer that way years ago and he had forgiven him despite it.

After the droids had been dealt with, they went to find an area that they could set up camp. Rex was planning on leaving him and Cody behind while the rest of them went to the Cyber Center. Rex had already commed an evac, but he didn't know when they would be arriving.

The group was lying low in a small clearing hidden by the local vegetation. He had leaned Cody against a tree as he helped him down onto the ground. He kneeled down in front of Cody, "Okay, good news: we know you are internally bleeding."

Cody seemed baffled as he let out a hoarse whisper, "How is that good news?" He really shouldn't have been talking.

"It won't be a surprise. Also, you're my ticket to getting my hands on an ultrasound," and, with a slight bitterness, he deadpanned, "You are of a high enough rank that they would care about you dying of internal bleeding."

"And you're fucking General Kenobi," Fives butted in as he had apparently been eavesdropping the entire time. He had yelled it as well, so everyone had definitely heard but the Bad Batch didn’t appear to react. Rex was succeeding in stifling his laughter, but just slightly, and Fives looked awfully smug about his comment. They couldn't pick on the overly defensive squad, so they would have to settle for Cody even though he was dying.

Kix rolled his eyes at Fives, a slight curve of amusement on his lips because it wasn't wrong, before turning attention back to Cody, "That is the main reason you would be kept alive." General Kenobi would absolutely internalize Cody's death and turn to the Dark Side. Who else would retrieve the General's lightsaber? Cody gave him a disappointed sigh, he knew Kix was right, and the sharp exhale had caused him to hiss in pain. 

He gave Cody a stern "stop hurting yourself" stare before he went back to negotiating, "Just make sure you stay on Anaxes. Please, get a droid for me." He was basically begging, but he thought the situation called for it.

There had been chances to get an ultrasound before, but he didn't take them because there was more risk than reward. The scans they were given were often way harder to wipe as droids could be convinced to wipe themselves. In the time it would take him to clear what had been checked on a scan, a non-clone would notice that something was being tampered with. That coupled with the fact that most of the scans were just not safe for a fetus. Trial and error had been done by past vode and he knew what he could and couldn't do. He would dishonor their memory by being an idiot.

"Why do you even need an ultrasound?" Cody, you little shit, stop talking. Every word sounded like he was dying just a little bit more.

He huffed with indignation but gave Cody a partial explanation anyway, "Can't exactly use the scans we have to check on a fetus." He really needed that ultrasound to confirm his suspicions. There had been signs pointing towards it and he needed to prepare himself and Tup for the possibility that-

Cody grunted in a mix of pain and affirmation, breaking Kix out of his musings. Kix knew the sound of a grunt giving permission quite well, so he would take it as a yes to getting what he required. He patted Cody on the shoulder, making sure it was light and painless, "Good talk," before going to sit by Fives. His vod looked at him with question and mistrust, but he ignored it. Clearly, he was thinking about how Kix had told him there was nothing to worry about. He probably thought he had lied to make him and Tup feel better, but Fives would know exactly why he needed an ultrasound soon enough.

\------

Rex was glad that he had brought Fives instead of Jesse. There had been a tiny apprehension at the beginning that he would increase the tension between the two groups, but Fives had been uncharacteristically silent. Of all the times, Fives necessitated silence and unity now and he was incredibly grateful for that. 

The one downside was that he could comprehend that Fives was getting ideas. No good, crazy, risky ideas that would involve stressing him and everyone around Fives out. He imagined that the Bad Batch would actually like Fives if they gave him the time of day, but he wasn't going to force what would inevitably be chaos. Fives was already enough of an undermining, rebellious osik.

The squad had questioned his leadership at first but he thought they were warming up to him...hopefully. They were probably going to go on a follow-up mission together and, not being able to use Cody as a buffer, they would need to respect him just slightly for anything to work. Honestly, Cody sucked as a buffer. He just went out and got injured; he was so inconsiderate.

He couldn't deny that the Bad Batch were genuinely some of the best troopers he had ever seen, if not slightly antagonistic. The fluidity at which they worked with each other was remarkable and combat seemed less of a duty and more of a thrill. Most clones reveled in the joy of a good fight, but they took it to a whole new level.

He couldn't fault them for their discrimination, even though it did bother him, because they had probably been put down by "regs" and long-necks their entire lives. This was just a byproduct of their wanting to be the ones in a more powerful position and they had the incredible skills to prove that they were better. That was what Rex told himself so, instead of getting angry, he got sympathetic.

He and Fives weren't the only ones deeply impressed, he had seen the way Kix had been eyeing Wrecker. He knew the look Kix got when he found another victim for his and Jesse's threesomes. The half-lidded gaze drenched in want had been directed at him at one point, so, yeah, he knew it personally. Kix could be very persuasive when he wanted to be (Rex believed that Jesse was going to veto the proposal. All of the members of the Bad Batch would grind Jesse's gears. Kix and Jesse had to agree on potential partners. That was just how their relationship worked; monogamy had never been a part of it).

After reaching the Cyber Center and getting what they had come for, they were now heading back to the area they had left the other members of their party. The wind blowing and whipping past him comforted him as he thought about what he had validated.

Tech seemed like someone who grew antsy when they weren't giving the full picture and he had been waiting for the question: "That number, Cap, what did it mean?"

Echo being used for that stupid algorithm confirmed his hope and fear (Suck on that, Cody). There was the possibility that it was a trap, he would heed that, but he suspected it to be true. He would just have to ignore the fact that Echo had most likely been tortured and it was all his fault. They couldn't have gone back, but could they have? He could have been better.

He settled on surety when answering, "CT-1409: that was Echo's number. He's alive." He needed to be sure or this squad would rip his opinion down. Tech still seemed curious, he didn't know who Echo was, but he didn't wish to go into specifics.

He thought that he had gone under the radar with that last statement. It took a few seconds and, if he had been able to see Fives' face, he would have seen the shock morphing into a stain of horror across his face. He did, nevertheless, notice when Fives turned around to face him and Tech. He did it calmly as if nothing was wrong, but he was shaking uncontrollably. The loss of the brother that he had mourned was coming back in waves. Fives had no idea that his inner turmoil was being conveyed outside of his mind. He thought he looked collected...that he didn't look like he was falling apart slowly and painfully. For the first time in a long while, Rex made eye contact with Fives and angry tears brimmed the edges of his eyes.

"Rex, what the _fuck_ did you just say?"

He should've brought Jesse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one:
> 
> Not a single soul:
> 
> Me: Kix/Wrecker


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fives is kind of mad at Rex and Tup finds something out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did math. It was just basic ratios, but it still forced me to rewrite portions of this chapter. It took me longer than I thought it would.

"You are not going to Skako Minor."

Fives' anger hadn't diminished over the past few hours. If anything, it grew as his despair turned into unadulterated rage. The seething emotions had built up during Rex's evasion and it had left him fuming, "He is _my_ brother. Not yours."

The comment stung, but Rex had prepared for a reaction like this. It was why he had been trying to avoid Fives since they had gotten back to the base. However, despite his efforts, Fives still managed to ambush him on his way to check on Cody. 

It made him question his decision to not tell Fives earlier, but he pushed those thoughts away because he recognized the reaction wouldn't have gotten any better. Fives would've still been resentful and the bristling energy standing in front of him would've still existed.

"The General already thinks I'm compromised, so I can't imagine how invested he would think you are," he spoke sternly. There was an undertone of bitterness, but Fives was too entangled in himself to notice.

He received a scoff, "He's being a hypocrite."

And wasn't that the truth? Rex respected General Skywalker, but he couldn't deny the man was a control freak when it came to the safety of his loved ones. He was liable to attachment and would sacrifice everything for the people he cared about even if it ended up hurting them. He had seen Jedi form romantic or familial relationships and still adhere to the Code, but his General was as far from the Code as any civilian. He was a good man and a good general, but he was not a good Jedi. Of course, Rex would never say it out loud.

Rex knew his vod. He had a drive that gave rise to him doing whatever he felt was right and, in a way, he was very much like their General. The one thing setting them apart: Fives wasn't Rex's higher-up.

"But he's right. What would you do if it was a trap? What if Echo isn't alive?"

"Echo is alive."

Fives tried to maintain an intimidating tone, but his words were more comparable to a plea than an assertion. It reminded Rex that under the hostile atmosphere he was a broken man. He couldn't bend to the will of Fives' desperation, but he agreed. He agreed so much. Fives should be allowed to see his brother, but not at the expense of either of their lives.

"That is why you are not coming."

"You don't-"

He cut Fives off, "That is final, trooper."

Rex stared down at him despite the height they shared and his vod steamed under his scrutiny. It was harsh, but it was necessary. If he had to be indifferent and strict, he would be. Rex could tell Fives was peeved at the order and he looked about ready to deck him. Rex initially prepared for a punch, but Fives only scowled before turning and walking away. He recognized that the point got across: he could be lenient, but not for this. It still shocked him that Fives didn't continue to fight back, so he remained tense as he waited for retaliation.

His expectations were fulfilled once Fives yelled back at him, "You can't stop me." His voice was steely and rigid; it was a promise.

Rex found himself watching as Fives stomped off to wherever he should have been instead of arguing with him. He let out a tired sigh as the retreating form disappeared and went back on his way to the medbay. The shinies who had been watching the ordeal looked away with wide eyes and rushed whispers. They terrifically failed at pretending they hadn't been witnesses to the fight between the ARC and their captain. If Rex hadn't been so preoccupied, he might've found their inability to mask eavesdropping amusing.

His vod could be so immature and headstrong sometimes. It was like he couldn't understand the bigger picture. This had nothing to do with Echo and everything to do with Fives. Yes, he believed Echo was alive, but he was willing to acknowledge the possibility he wasn't. Fives was so caught up in his belief, and Rex didn't want to find out what would happen if it was proven false. If he went to Skako Minor and found out Echo was dead, if his hopes were dashed there instead of the base on Anaxes, he would get himself killed. He wouldn't be able to handle the guilt of being responsible for both Echo and Fives’ deaths. He wouldn't be able to deal with knowing he had taken everything from Tup: kaysh riduur, kaysh ad, kaysh vod. Dogma's decommissioning was entirely Rex's fault, he was willing to bear the burden, and he would not let another avoidable death happen.

Upon entering the medbay, he was surprised to see Tup. He wasn't injured but was instead cleaning a wound of another vod. He appeared to have pulled shrapnel out of some poor shiny's leg before getting to where he was now. Once done sterilizing the gash, he applied a bacta patch. The entire time the shiny had kept from hissing in pain, but they allowed themself to surrender a deep rasp once the bacta had been placed. They thanked Tup with a slight nod and Tup beamed at the gratitude. It had been contagious as the shiny grinned back. Just a little bit, but it was there. Rex believed their name was Vaughn. Tup probably related to how the younger underplayed their discomfort. Shinies assumed they weren't worth the time it took to treat them.

Kix must've been trying to take Tup under his wing. They were in desperate need of medics, but it was a pity: Tup would have made a fine ARC if he hadn't gotten knocked up. He was a great tactician and, in combat, worked extraordinarily well under pressure. He was young, younger than Rex had been when the war started, but he was still one of the more experienced troopers of the 501st. It was not only a testament to how competent Tup was but also to how many of their vode had marched on. Maybe he could offer ARC training after the baby was born, but Rex didn't feel like fighting Kix for Tup. Besides, he seemed pleased to help his vode. If it made Tup happy, that was all that mattered. It was probably for the best. Kix knew what he was doing: it was an easy way to get another medic and an excuse to get Tup out of harm's way.

But, as he watched Tup, he got an idea. Fives was right, Rex couldn't stop him, but there was one person who could. He grabbed Tup's attention with a wave as he separated from Vaughn which caught Tup off guard. Tup glanced off to another area in the medbay, most likely where Cody was, before looking back at Rex who was still moving towards him.

The bemusement Tup felt was clear as he inquired, "Captain?"

His hands were cupped around his stomach, probably didn't even notice he was doing it, and there was a weary air to him. They would have to work on his hands not gravitating towards his abdomen when he was around natborns, but there was one thing that felt more pressing. Now that Rex was closer, he could see how sickly Tup looked and it concerned him: lips tinted a light blue and a dazed expression saying he was seconds away from passing out. Despite it all, he kept a chipper demeanor and there was a tenderness in the way touched above where his child was.

He understood it was bad to manipulate Fives into not going, but he had no other choice. He felt more guilty about having Tup carry it out than he did about it actually happening. Based on what he saw, Tup was not taking to his pregnancy well, but if Kix was having him work he should be fine. He could perform this one task.

"I need you to do something for me."

\------

"Wake up," a voice whispered in his ear as it shook his shoulder. He was way too tired to be able to tell who it was.

He shoved his face further into the crook of his arm and mumbled out a whine, "It's the middle of the cycle. Go away."

He hadn't gotten much sleep. The baby had been very hyper and he just couldn't get comfortable with the added weight pressing against his spine. Whenever he thought they had finally quieted down, they would move again. The gentle flutters had turned into jabs as he went further into the pregnancy. It sort of solidified the fact his ad was there, but he still missed sleeping for more than thirty consecutive minutes.

"Actually, it's almost over."

He lifted his head from his faux pillow and glared at the person talking. He didn't care if it was almost over. Those extra minutes were going to make him feel well-rested and, yes, he was lying to himself.

He could now recognize who had woken him up and he didn't try to hide his annoyance, "Alright, Kix, I'm up."

He rolled out of his bunk with great reluctance. His vision blurred as he stood up, and he lost his bearings for a second but he recovered quickly enough. Even though he was irritated, he was reassured by how calm Kix was. The mission must've been successful, so Fives was alright. He still didn't understand why he needed to be woken up.

Without thought, his hands went down to rub the curve of his stomach before resting at the bottom. Over the past few weeks, it had rounded out and his navel had begun to disappear. Fives had to be blind because he was absolutely showing. They literally had the same body type; there was no excuse not to notice. It was like Fives was trying to gaslight him and it pissed Tup off that Fives thought he was being delusional.

It wasn't like it was all in Tup's head either because he had caught people staring at him. Their eyes soaking in his changing form with hunger. He could take curiosity, he empathized with the fascination of seeing something new among uniformity, but some vode were disturbing and cruel. He wasn't some object, but the long-necks had conditioned a few of his brothers enough that his feelings didn't matter. He had taken to showering at a less crowded time because he couldn't stand the caressing, the stroking, the grabbing, the fondling, the patting, the groping, and every other physical contact that had been played off after he snapped at the offender. Their retorts always made his blood boil.

He didn't have to be so defensive.

It was just a slight brush.

They didn't mean anything by it.

Contrary to his belief, no one wanted to touch or see his little accident.

If he didn't want people to touch him, maybe he shouldn't have put out like a whore.

Hormones were really doing a number on him, huh?

He had overheard some older clones from the 91st talking about how full he was, how pretty he was fat with a child, how he looked about ready to pop, and how they might have to fill him up with a second if his baby daddy didn't. Raucous laughter had followed, taunting echoes pounding in his skull, and Tup had to keep from curling himself into a ball at their words. It terrified him. It was a reminder of how his vode were all different and that their differences covered morals, opinions, and flaws. He liked to believe all his vode were good, but they were just people. He had longed to scream at them to stop being creepy freaks, they weren't remotely quiet and he wasn't deaf, but he didn't. He froze, he couldn't breathe, and it was like the air had been sucked out of his lungs or a rope had been tied around his throat. All he did was stare blankly into a wall as they continued their conversation over the young, fertile vod from the 501st. He hadn't told anyone about any of the incidents because it had never gotten too serious and he didn't feel like gaining more attention. He could handle himself.

He wasn't pathetic.

Regardless of the fetishization of his pregnancy, he found himself enjoying the gradual swelling of his belly. It meant his baby was growing and that was all he could ask for. Since they had been stationed on Anaxes, the slight bloating had turned into a bump. A lot of the side effects of carrying a baby had become apparent on Anaxes as well. Sleep deprivation was one of them, but he was also cramping. It reminded him of how some of his batchmates had described their periods and it was probably their revenge for him not having one. Ration bars had actually started tasting good, but he didn't think he was eating enough. Hunger had been a constant in his life, but the aches now led to a troubled state. It was different when it was just him, but now he feared the likelihood of starving his child. He had gotten more fatigued, he got lightheaded randomly, his skin was getting paler and he felt weaker. He thought the headaches were going away, but, as their stay on Anaxes lengthened, they persisted. He had told Kix his symptoms because it reminded him too much of Ringo Vinda. Kix claimed nothing was wrong, but something was peculiar about his pregnancy. He felt bigger than he should be. He had never seen a pregnant person before, but he could infer based on the jeers and Kix's puzzled reaction. When he had shown Kix his expanding stomach, the medic had done a double-take. He had rushed through the notes on his datapad and ended up asking Tup if he could have conceived earlier than they previously thought.

Fives had been there when he had shown Kix, pacing in the background, and he had invited him specifically so he could pay attention. It hurt him that, out of all the people who had noticed, none of them were Fives. The one person he wanted to touch his abdomen, to feel their child kicking against his palm, hadn't. Instead, he had gotten molested and a bunch of pigs chatted about how they wished to rape him. It made him wonder if Fives cared about the child or him; he was just some floozy who had spread his legs one too many times. Tup had trapped him and he didn't owe Tup anything. He hoped, no, he knew Fives didn't think about their relationship like that. He knew Fives loved him and their child. He had felt the affection in his embrace and in the soft lilt of his voice. He had to care because Fives was just as unsettled by Kix's vague response as he was.

It could be a stomach tumor or maybe Fives was right to ponder if they were having twins. He hated knowing, if he had children, they wouldn't only be separated from Fives and him but each other. However, he would prefer twins over something awry.

And, as he got ready, he recalled what Kix had said. Waking him up could be about finding out why he looked so far along and, with that thought in mind, he gained a renewed vigor. He squeezed on his armor. It was getting tighter around his midsection: the flexible cushion was, as the name implied, flexible but the utility belt was not. It didn't help that a certain someone liked to beat and press up against the confines of the armor whenever he put it on. While he combed his fingers through the tangles in his hair, there was a movement against the surface of his stomach accompanied by prodding at his side. Twins would definitely explain how active the baby was and how big he had gotten.

He tied his hair up into a bun before letting out a yawn. He stretched his arms above his head, drowsily looking at Kix, "What do you need me for?"

Kix had been patient while he got ready, but he now grabbed Tup's hand to lead him out, "There is an ultrasound on Anaxes and this might be our only chance to use one."

"I'll know if they're healthy or not?" It was like he could breathe for the first time since he found out he was having a baby. He was relieved he wouldn't be subsisting on complete uncertainty. For a moment, he wondered why the ultrasound was on Anaxes, but it was covered by the elation of finding out if his child was fine. It confirmed his speculation, so Kix could be forgiven for disturbing his slumber. He took his hands from Kix's grip and continued to medbay by the medic's side.

Kix offered him a soft smile, "More accurately, yes, but you are also far enough along that their sex can be determined."

He brushed against the covering on his abdomen and the baby returned with a directed hit. He felt a warmth and calm flow through his mind in spite of the abuse his innards were enduring. The baby went back to dawdling, euphoric bubbles pretending they hadn't rammed into his kidney, and he couldn't believe he would actually know if they were his son or daughter before their birth. He was frightened by the possibility of learning he might already be carrying a second child, but he had processed the possibility. If he discovered he was having twins, he would adapt. It would be harder than having just one kid, but he and Fives could manage.

Kix led him to an area cut off from the rest of the medbay and a droid immediately rushed up to them. It tried to push them out, reprimanding as it went, "This is a restricted area." Tup sidestepped the attempt to make him leave and Kix followed suit. The droid whirred with resentment and he offered an apologetic simper. He did feel bad about barging in, but it didn't do much as they only did the equivalent of an indignant huff.

Kix hadn't been as engrossed in the droid as him and instead strolled over to the other person in the room. The person they were stealing the ultrasound from sounded confused, but not surprised, in their exclamation, "Kix?"

It caused him to look past Kix and he was equally confused by who was sitting on the examination table, "Commander Cody?" Force, it was the Commander they were taking the ultrasound from. General Kenobi was going to kill him or, at least, be extremely disappointed in him. He didn't know which one was worse.

Cody took his sight off Kix at the interrupting voice and his eyes widened for a second as they landed on Tup. Kix raised a brow at Cody's shock before stealing back his attention with a smirk, "I told you I was going to get that ultrasound." He circled the droid to inspect them, "This the droid?"

The droid was not happy about the intrusion or the inspection. If they had blood, their cheeks would've flushed from how flustered they were, "This is my patient-"

"You are done, right?" Cody asked.

They were quick to respond, "Affirmative," but Tup could tell how irked they were.

"I believe the trooper needs-," he tilted his head in question,"-what was it you said?" They had talked about him and his pregnancy? He didn't know what he was feeling but it was around the lines of shame and embarrassment. What made it worse was that it was Marshal Commander Cody: he didn't need to deal with his problems.

Even though Cody had asked, Kix stared at the droid as he gave a straightforward answer, "Pelvic ultrasound imaging."

There was a whole bunch of tension between Kix and the droid. Both seemed like very dominant forces that were repulsed by anything opposing them. Tup and Cody were only there to be awkward bystanders. They gave Kix a dirty look, he didn't know how, then addressed Cody, "I was ordered to treat _only_ you."

"As Marshal Commander, I order you to treat CT-5385." The droid became visibly distressed by the order as it challenged a previous one. Tup couldn't help feeling horrible about putting them in this position. It was always difficult to work against your programming.

At face value, it looked like Kix had taken pity on the droid and was granting them a way out, "You can wipe those memory files afterward. No one needs to know."

"Affirmative." They calmed down and the tension that existed before between Kix and them had been cut. Kix hadn't intended for it to benefit them, but they didn't need to know that. It just so happened erasing the memory files would aid everyone in the room. There would be no lasting evidence of the ultrasound and it would look like the droid had followed their instructions.

Cody got up from the table and basically forced Tup onto it. He knew the drill. He had to get up to take off the armor covering his torso and it felt like he was going against Cody. He seemed to understand that he needed to stand up, but it was humiliating to be watched and judged by an ori'vod as he undressed. The humiliation wore off slightly after he had finished and there was immediate relief once the utility belt was taken off. He had no idea what he was going to do when his middle thickened more. He laid back on the table, unzipping and lowering the blacks to cover only his lower half, and waited for the droid to do whatever it needed.

He could grasp that the droid needed to touch his stomach with the scanner, but it took a lot of self-control to not tear the scanner out of their arm. He was ashamed by how overprotective he was being, but all previous experiences of someone touching him hadn't been the most pleasant. He reacted about the same way whenever Kix touched his midsection and Fives was the only one that didn't make him tense up.

He watched in amazement as the droid scanned the expanse of his stomach, going back and forth in repetition. They stopped abruptly, "There appear to be abnormal growths in the abdominal region. You are biologically male, correct?"

"I'm not fully human," Tup explained. The droid should know that already if it was from Kamino but apparently not. They could have just wanted to clarify.

The droid hummed and continued scanning, "The growths are not abnormal then. For the species this is most like, how much does the average newborn weigh?"

Kix replied for Tup, "Four pounds and eight ounces," not looking up from the datapad that was showing the sonogram. It was on the smaller side for humans, but they grew pretty fast so it kind of made up for it. Kix had told him that clone-natborn babies took after the sire's species more.

"You are twenty-one weeks along," they stated. It wasn't a question, but he nodded his head anyway. His baby was in the clear and that was a relief. Miscarriages happened before the twentieth week and stillborns were rare enough for second-generation clones. Cody looked like he was questioning the timeframe and Tup's approval of it, and that proved the theory he was having twins even further. He could do this. He was mentally prepared. He was not going to have a breakdown in front of Cody.

"Have you seen a professional or had an ultrasound done before this?"

He glanced at Kix for guidance and, to his surprise, Kix was not studying the sonogram. He once again answered for him, "No, he hasn't," but there was a breathless quality to it.

Before he could delve into what that could mean, the droid began scolding him, "For cases like this, it is best to have an ultrasound done in the first trimester to determine chorionicity, but they are progressing at a standard rate along with the placentae. They appear to be trichorionic-triamniotic which is preferable for this situation. Congratulations, it looks like your children are healthy."

There was the initial relief of them being healthy, but then the plurality registered. Di meant two. Tri...tri did not mean that at all. He didn't want to think about what tri meant and it was amazing how a prefix was completely shattering him.

"Could you repeat that?" He sounded pitiful; his murmur was soft and distant. He was there, but his mind was somewhere far off and locked away.

His stupor was broken when Kix took the datapad and turned the screen towards Tup. A black and white screen, but in the grey, he could make out a shape and-

"Your son."

He couldn't even process what had been said before the droid moved the scanner across his stomach, the screen changing along with it. It was another baby and he couldn't go against the truth. They had a little nose and, as they wiggled their arms, he could feel a tiny flicker. The baby in front of him was inside of him and it was mind-boggling. They had five fingers on each hand and five toes on each foot and they were perfect.

"Your daughter."

The scan moved for the last time and it was undeniable that he was having ade. He was probably imagining it, but it looked like they were sucking their thumb. They had a small face and they were growing along with their siblings and he loved them more than anything even though he hadn't known of their existence until a few seconds ago.

"Your daughter."

He was expecting a boy and two girls. He was having three babies. There were three fetuses currently growing inside of him. Underneath his palm were three, healthy fetuses that were half him and half Fives.

Then it really dawned on him that, holy shit, he was having three children.

Tup believed he started crying around the time he saw his first child which turned into a full-body sob by the third. The droid shut down after it was done with the scan and Tup was thankful he would not have another witness to his meltdown. He was uncontrollably convulsing: one hand splayed on his stomach and the other covering his mouth in shock and in a feeble attempt to quiet himself. The only thing he could see through the tears were the shapes of his children and once those were gone it was as though he had gone blind.

Hormones were really doing a number on him, _huh_?

Thoughts were racing in his head over what he was going to do and he didn't know. He was only eighteen and Fives wasn't much older. His kids were going to look nine years younger than him when they reached twenty and that was extremely frightening to think about. If they reached twenty. He was going to screw this up and he was underprepared and he was going to get them killed and he was a terrible parent and he was worthless and he was such an idiot and he knew he _couldn’t_ do this.

Clones weren’t prone to crying. Cody felt uncomfortable and unsure in the presence of his despondent vod'ika. He turned to Kix," Did you know about this?"

Kix was at a loss, "I mean, I thought that he might be having twins," a defeated sigh escaped his lips, "I'll have to ask around, but I think this can work."

Kix ended up sitting next to Tup, "Hey, are you alright?" He began rubbing his back in a soothing motion.

"I'm so selfish," Tup threw himself into Kix's arms, his hands still latched around his middle.

Kix tightened his hold as he continued stroking his back, "Why would you think that? You're not selfish." Tender, gentle, and reassuring: Kix was a way better parent than him in so many ways.

He was crying into Kix's shoulder, "Yes, I am. If I wasn't, I would give them up to anywhere but kriffing Kamino. We're going to get decommissioned."

"Tup'ika-"

"I am willingly putting my child-,” but that was wrong now, ”-my...my children into slavery." He saw how Cody cringed at the word slavery before pretending he didn't hear. Tup was ashamed for having fallen apart in front of him, but the treasonous thought slipping through the cracks was way worse. It was true though and he could see why Kix hated the Republic. He had evolved to deal with the position he was given, but he couldn't stand the thought of his children dealing with what he had to growing up. It was different for his ade, they were not made to serve the Republic. It didn't sit well with him that because he was property, his children were as well. But, at this point, he preferred Kamino over death and it made him disgusted in himself.

He couldn't see the empathy in Kix's appearance, but he could hear it in his consolation and feel it in his grip, "Udesii. We're clones; we don't have the privilege of being selfish. I had the same fears as you when I had Coyote. You are doing so much better than me." That had to be a lie because Kix was everything Tup wasn't.

With stuttered breath, Tup continued belittling himself, "This is...this is all my fault. I'm so stupid."

Cody, still uneasy, tried his best to console, "Tup, no one is getting decommissioned. Besides, the reason there aren't that many multiples isn't that they got decommissioned, it's because the carrier died or they miscarried."

Tup had passed that point, but he had been starving them. He wasn't eating enough and he could've killed them. Not to mention how he could still die during these last few months. He had almost died during the beginning and he would have died never knowing he was pregnant. The attempt to make him feel better made him feel worse.

Kix sensed that with ease and whispered a threat to Cody, "I am _this close_ to telling General Skywalker about you and General Kenobi."

He switched back to soothing Tup from threatening Cody alarmingly quick. He rocked Tup as the younger bawled into the crook of his neck, "They'll be okay. You'll be okay. No one is dying. We'll just have to monitor this more closely than before." He said out loud to himself, "And I'm going to need to get iron supplements because you have definitely developed anemia." After he was done talking, he just held Tup until the weeping turned into a light hiccuping.

"I need some help around the medbay. Would you mind giving me a hand?"

His eyes were puffy, his smile broken, but he was sincere, "Sure."

He smeared the tears on his face in an attempt to get his eyes dry, but his eyes kept on stinging. His nose was stuffed and he could feel the crust of tears on his face. He was a mess, but Kix was giving him hope with the soft concern evident in his words. Kix cared about him. Kix would help him and Fives would be there for him. He would pull through. Not for himself but for his ad'ike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to drop all of the kids’ names.


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fugue (n.): a state or period of loss of awareness of one's identity, often coupled with flight from one's usual environment, associated with certain forms of hysteria and epilepsy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten chapters in and my Tumblr is @iputtheaceindisgrace
> 
> Ad'ike is now part of a series and the name of the series has been finalized. The reason this took so long: I was writing other stuff and school.

Fox had always hated his personal quarters. He could never breathe in the windowless room he was supposed to sleep in. The deafening silence minced by the whispers of ventilation always sounded too much like him. Palpatine had sunk into every imperfection and the room closed in as the shadows taunted his anxieties. It hadn't been as bad before but now every second was like losing control.

He preferred being in his office if he was going to be perfectly honest, however, he usually ended up either not sleeping or waking up with no memory of when he had fallen asleep. Even though he loathed the physical isolation of the cramped space, it was the one place where he could rest without fear of being used.

Health had never been a major priority to him. If he could finish his paperwork, complete the routine patrols, babysit a senator, and make it through the day with little hardship: he was fine. There was nothing caf or adrenaline couldn't fix, but things had changed.

In such a short period, his life had been completely screwed over. The days dragged, yet it felt like years passed every hour. A clear indicator of how fast the shift had occurred was the still-flat, toned surface of his stomach. He would only give it brief glimpses because there was a fine line between loving his child and hating the total loss of bodily autonomy.

He was nearing the end of his first trimester. He was only now-

There was nothing worse than the monotony of waiting. Every day was the first in an endless game where the rules were crystal clear until it became too easy. He had gotten better at navigating the edge of Palpatine's anger, but it was erratic enough his progress didn't matter. This whole thing was a test of his patience and preparing for a sign was weakening what was left of his will.

He was hoping the sign would be Dooku's death. It would be a great victory for the Republic and would usher in talk of the war ending. Getting rid of Palpatine was proving to be a dilemma, but he would tackle the issue when it came up. For the next six months, he would keep his eyes open for any potential red flags. If he was alive during the purge of the Jedi, the Empire must have risen while he was pregnant. Palpatine wouldn't keep him around otherwise.

And dammit if he didn't know the Chancellor well enough by now to know when the Republic was going to fall. He knew Palpatine better than anyone.

So he would wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Day in and day out a constant cycle of meaningless tasks solely done to fill the tedium of routine patrols and paperwork. Patrol. Paperwork. Clean office. Last day of training Fugue. Patrol. Paperwork. Meditate. Sleep. Wake up after an hour. Patrol. Paperwork. Clean office. Remember to eat today. Patrol. Paperwork. Meditate. Patrol. Paperwork. Clean office. He's starving himself. Patrol. Paperwork. Meditate. He's exhausted but all he can see is yellow eyes. Patrol. Paperwork. Clean office. _You're killing him_. Pass out during patrol. Have Stone scold him as Thire looks on with disappointment. Promise he will take it easy for a day or two. Forget paperwork. Meditate. Sleep. Wake up.

Go to the Chancellor's office after he summons him. He lets him touch him, quivering as hands trail from unclad hips to wrap around his throat. His body goes numb as his neck snaps. He collapses and his heart stops beating. He wants to scream but he can't force enough air to even whisper. There is panic settling in his mind as he suffocates, but also an unnerving acceptance. He tries to listen to the Chancellor but the words are fuzzy and dim. He thanks him after he is healed because he knows what happens when he is ungrateful. He doesn't feel like eating: his stomach is mush and every inhale tears against his lungs.

He's so fucking tired.

Which was why he was cleaning out the unused quarters. He needed to start taking care of himself because, no matter how much he lied, he was not doing fine. Sleeping and eating had become a chore. Half-clone babies could take a lot, but he was pushing his ad to the limit. Apparently, Palpatine didn't want him to miscarry either because he wasn't being ordered to do anything outside of patrols and paperwork. He could hurt them all he wanted, but Force-forbid anyone else did.

Cleaning his office distracted him, so he assumed cleaning the room would do the same. The difference settled in once he remembered how much he disliked the room. He hadn't been awake in it longer than a few minutes since he had been assigned to the Guard. He had started sleeping in it again after Cyto had-

He used it as storage for weapons and unimportant, forgotten items. He used the uncleanliness as an excuse to stay out and when he did sleep there, he left as soon as he woke up. Nonetheless, it wasn't going to clean itself. It was an unfamiliar dance around objects he hadn't seen in months or years in some cases.

He found the tattoo gun he thought he had lost along with some ink. The ink probably hadn't expired at this point was his thought as he held the bottles up to the light. Yet, the fact he couldn't use them on a vod made him nostalgic. One of his biggest regrets was Thorn dying mad at him. Looking at the gun, he saw the hours spent on a jade rose nestled in the small of Thorn's back. It felt like a waste to not use perfectly good ink.

His mind went astray as he continued sorting all the crap he had shoved into the space. Left dazed by his work, he didn't notice the datapad, singled out from the mounds of datapads, he had thrown on the bed until he had finished. He was proud of himself for completing what he had set out to do. A few months earlier, he would have reprimanded himself for procrastinating. He had learned to settle. It wasn't sparkling, but he could at least see the entirety of the floor now.

Plopping down onto the bed, he stiffened as his side was poked. There was a flash of uneasiness before realizing it was a datapad. He wiped off the dust with his hand because his helmet was practically melded to his face at this point. It was an older model and he couldn't recall where he had gotten it. For a second, he worried it was broken but it finally turned on after a daunting pause. There was a single folder illuminating an otherwise blank screen and no hints to its purpose. He was intrigued and he had nothing better to do during the break Stone and Thire had forced him to take. He had refused medical attention, so this was the compromise. They didn't want to lose another commander.

A gentle tap caused the screen to erupt with color. It was a photo album. The first photo showcased two shinies with armor which had yet to be blemished by paint or dirt. Two brothers who were close both physically and emotionally based on their stances and the slight grins reaching their eyes. It was a standard picture: helmets at their sides with a serious but lighthearted mood. There was something familiar in the glint of copper-tinted gold one of the shinies carried. He exuded charm and confidence in a manner similar to someone Fox used to know. As Fox peered at the duo, thinking over who they could be, he recognized them. The shiny who struck a chord in his mind was Keeli, so the other one must be a younger version of him.

He couldn't see himself being the shiny even though he knew he was. The shiny didn't have a single gray hair. The vod looked happy and it was genuine in a way he hadn't felt in years. There was hope in the gleam of his smile despite being prodded and used as an animal for years. He was new to the GAR and relishing the ability to sever himself from Kamino. Sentience had been gained after overcoming the voices telling them they were only products. They were both naive to the new horrors they would face but not naive to the pain of life. In their first decade, they had experienced more trauma than most natborns would in a lifetime. Broken but going forward with the ignorance of any newly deployed batch.

He hadn't thought about this version of Keeli in a long time. He hadn't thought of his vod'ika in a long time. A younger brother who had needed extra help with shot accuracy and who had begged him with fear of death evident in every word. His Keel'ika who would grow up and comm him with that same fear because he hadn't _known_.

As he flicked through photos, it became clear who the owner of the pad was. Photos blurred by of Keeli's garrison with some vode disappearing and being replaced. The Keeli he knew became more clear as the regulation-abiding style turned into a buzzcut, a constant five o'clock shadow, and dark red trailing across armor. Hesitant shots of General Di became more confident until Keeli could also be found in them. They steadily grew more intimate and comfortable with every swipe until he stopped at a new addition. Any outsider would've brushed off Keeli and General Di as close friends, but it was undeniable their relationship had been romantic by the album's conclusion.

The final photo was a closeup of Keeli and General Di cradling their daughter. His vod leaned his head against the shoulder of his riduur as they both beamed at the fussy newborn. His brother appeared drained with how heavy his smile was, but there was so much warmth and love in his gaze it barely showed. Pounamu was almost identical to her sire, but under the closed lids hid the alluring shade of her carrier.

It was easy to see how the couple adored each other and their ik'aad.

A swaddled baby rested against the bare skin of a buir who wanted her. He was appalled by the spark of jealousy the scene ignited. It emphasized a picturesque reality and he yearned for what he had never desired before. It didn't feel like too much to ask for someone who would look at him and his baby with the awe General Di had while taking in his family. Anything would be appreciated over the debauched sadist who craved breathless screams and took pride in the temporary scars marring his body. Anything would be appreciated over the man who had smoothed over the reminiscence set deep in skin to create a canvas that had been altered by him alone.

He couldn't refrain from outlining his brother's face while he stared at the photo in contemplation. Musing over his envy of a better existence wasn't going to get him anywhere. He shouldn't envy a man who had every right to still be alive. Keeli had found what most vode only dreamed of, but it had been fleeting. His vod was disposable and it was expected of him to die in battle. Clones weren't made for long, happy lives. A clone wasn't supposed to have any other purpose besides their loyalty to the Republic.

It infuriated him how people spoke of their sacrifice, but they were blind to what had _been_ sacrificed.

Turning off the datapad was harder than he expected: it hurt to see his vod'ika fade into black at the side of his husband and daughter. He ended up putting the pad by the tattoo gun where it would be accessible. If possible, he would show Pounamu the album when she was older. He reflected on how Keeli had asked him to do just that, but his vod should have been the one to show her. Keeli shouldn't have needed to accept the possibility of never seeing his baby again.

Laying back down on the bed, he studied the smooth ceiling. It was nothing like the dented and burnt one of the barracks: the result of weapons going off, roughhousing, and general stupidity. Fond memories had been made in those barracks and it only made him hate the room more. Going to sleep would be the smart thing to do, it was why he had cleaned, but as his stomach grumbled he decided not to. His mind was subconsciously giving him a reason to leave.

Forgetting to eat had always been one of his flaws and scavenging from his vode had been one of his main sources of sustenance when he was a cadet. Most of the Guard believed he got his name because of his cunning, but it was mostly because he stole food from his batchmates. Cody used to tease him over their half-right assumptions. It surprised him how he missed comming Cody and hearing him complain about General Kenobi. He didn't often dwell over his batchmates and usually only talked to Cody out of necessity (Maybe a part of him had commed Cody because his ori'vod had been a security blanket when he was younger. He had always gone to Kote when he acknowledged his need for help.). Ponds had marched on and the relationship he had with Wolffe and Bly was strained at best.

Regardless, thinking of his batchmates only made him ache for interaction, and socialization wasn't necessary for basic survival. He needed food: a luxury which had not been partaken in for around...seven days he believed? The answer solidified how miraculous it was he hadn't miscarried and he was petrified by how effortlessly Palpatine had drawn out his vices. The Chancellor was a stain he would never be able to wash away, but his death would absolutely ease his psyche. Living for death didn't seem healthy, but at least he had something to motivate him.

Food. Time to stop getting distracted and get food. It was imperative for his caloric intake to shift from zero. The only reason no one had noticed the intensifying gauntness of his face was that he never took off his helmet.

He recognized being picky wasn't something he could afford, but rations were the worst tasting thing in the entire galaxy. An obvious statement, however, the resistance he had built up over the years had vanished. His stomach rolled at the dry, grainy texture, and just thinking about the papery taste made him nauseated.

But it wasn't like there was anything else.

No, he realized with slight elation as he practically hopped off the bed, that couldn't be further from the truth. He had been stationed on Coruscant, not the front: there was a substantial difference. Without a doubt, the one perk of being part of the Guard was the availability of resources unknown to other vode. Natborn food was among these comforts. Not something he indulged in regularly, but it felt appropriate (He knew vode on the front hated the Guard and, more specifically, him because of how comfy they viewed their lifestyle. While they were on the front risking their lives, the Guard was escorting senators. Even worse, Fox was one of the primary guards for a chancellor who rarely got attacked, yet he had more prestige than the majority of his vode. He didn't deserve the platform he had obtained and he agreed with those vode. He deserved nothing. Everything he thought he had earned rightfully was because of Palpatine. It made him question his capabilities and if all his progress in the GAR had been the result of an elaborate ploy.).

After promising himself he would revert back to rations after having real food this once, he left the quarters with a renewed sense of energy. The prospect of doing something different made him oddly jubilant and exiting the somber of his quarters added to the mood. Fluctuating emotions had become a staple of the past few weeks and he couldn't discern if it was caused by depression, stress, pregnancy, sleep deprivation, caf withdrawal, malnourishment, or an amalgamate of all those problems wrapped up neatly with a bow on top. Clones were immune to the influences of stress and depression, but, then again, they were also supposed to be sterile and the Kaminoans kriffed that one up real bad.

Strolling over to his office offered a quick hint of normalcy. For a second, he pretended it was just another day where he and Thorn used their free time to explore Coruscant under the guise of normal civilians. One of the days where they were able to shed their armor and take a few credits around the places they were normally unwelcome. Areas blocked for a clone off duty were open for two, young brothers with plain civvies and cloth-covered faces.

When he was about to reach his office, he noticed Fugue walking towards him. The insignia of a medic on his left shoulder with red boots, upper torso, and utility belt. Even with how new he was, the paint was chipped and had lost its crisp quality. After the adjustment to the Guard was over and a shiny had proven they knew Coruscant like the subtle differences of their own flesh, they were allowed to customize their armor to their taste. Freshly applied paint held the shine surrendered by the older: red streaked down his arms and three, thin lines circling both of his thighs.

There was fulfillment in seeing another shiny grow into the Guard, so he was just as startled as Fugue when he harshly inquired, "Where do you think you're going?"

The trooper, having barely passed him, froze at his commander's bluntness. Fugue's helmet was nowhere to be seen, so the submissive dip accompanied by a timid answer mocked him, "The mess hall, sir."

Fox forced the sting of bile back down, pooling and stewing in his gut, as the docile act curtailed the poise of Fugue. He never wanted a vod to feel the need to be meek and obedient because of him: to lower themselves in order to appease his authority. It mirrored what he did to please the Chancellor. There were moments of rebellion, but with the frigid sternness of a raised voice returned the complacent loyalty.

In a split-second decision, he decided to kidnap the shiny and take him to get real food. There was a tradition he and Thorn had taken part in where they would take shinies to 79's and get shitfaced. Thorn wasn't there and he couldn't exactly drink alcohol, so this would have to make up for that (Also, 79's didn't serve palatable food or alcohol, but if you were out to forget the yowled desolation of an infant who couldn't fathom why there was a burning throb in their skull then it was the place for you.).

He jerked his head towards the path he was taking, "Follow me." It was stringent, leaving no room for argument, and it proved he had adjusted to the lack of contact by losing his few social skills. His mood had always come across as angrier than he actually was. A voice that was naturally coarse and deeper than most needed to be adjusted to if a shiny wanted to understand his tone.

Fugue was baffled but flanked along anyway with rigid steps. Whenever Fox looked towards him, he would glance away as he took an interest in the blank wall. His neck blushed where it peeked out of his blacks and he was understandably jittery.

There was a stifling discomfort as they entered his office and he could pick up Fugue uneasily drumming his foot while he rummaged through a drawer. A methodical storage system had been put in place and it was the only beneficial decision he had made while under Palpatine's control. He gripped the fabric before catching a glimpse: softer and more comfortable than any clothes administered by the GAR but undoubtedly well-worn.

Fox mentally smacked himself when he turned back to Fugue only to find he hadn't lost any stiffness. He held out the civvies, "Put these on."

Despite the maintained steeliness, Fugue unwinded as he took the offering. Eyeing them curiously before peeking back at his commander in hopes of confirmation.

Crossing his arms, he continued with the same stoic tone, "Consider this an additional part of your training."

"Commander, shouldn't you be resting?" At least Fox was diffusing the situation. The shiny had relaxed more with the realization he wasn't in trouble, but he had reverted to the habits of a medic. It was almost like Cyto was in front of him instead of Fugue. The keyword was almost because while Cyto had been an assertive medic, Fugue was subdued and inexperienced. It was only a trick of the light if he saw curly hair knotted with blood instead of Fugue's simple cut.

"We're not doing anything taxing," he defended.

Setting his civvies aside on his desk, he ripped off his helmet. Not breathing easier than before, yet there was still freedom in abandoning the mask. It was a part of his culture, his identity, but nothing was sacred under corruption. After it had joined the garments, he began disassembling his armor. He lightly placed his dual pistols on the cloth and, by the time his belt and kama were off, he realized Fugue was staring at him in a stupor.

He brushed his fingers over his throat in order to confirm his cervical vertebrae had been mended. With Fugue gawking, there was the dread Palpatine had left a permanent brand. The man was meticulous in his process, yet indulgence was guaranteed with his impatience. Eventually, it would be unmistakable who Fox was a possession of, but there was irritability caused by the prevailing lack of development. Empty wishes wouldn't stop the Chancellor from thoroughly claiming ownership, but it appeared his skin had remained unbruised and scarless.

There must be another reason, he concluded, and it clicked. Once more Fox made eye contact with Fugue, but it contrasted the previous experiences. The medic had associated Fox with a faceless commander whose words were rare and sharp. He did technically have an idea of what the other man might look like, yet speculation lost to reality. This was the first time Fox had resembled a human and not an authoritarian standard. This shiny knew nothing but the isolated version of Fox. He had met the Fox so caught up in his trauma it stifled every action.

There was something strange about someone looking at you with eyes that must've been there the whole time.

Fugue shifted away from the mutual gaze, copying what he had done in the hallway and the various peeks from when he was being trained. He started taking off his vambraces as if he hadn't been looking, so Fox went back to changing (Palpatine detested it, but he appreciated not being visibly pregnant yet. It made it much easier to take off his blacks in front of Fugue.). He wondered how Fugue judged his appearance. Knowing he looked awful, it was logical to conclude not all of the reaction was from the first reveal of his face. It wasn't like Fugue wouldn't have been alerted over his health or lack thereof. Fugue was the medic: deep, dark bags under his eyes and too defined cheekbones were all pointing to detrimental choices.

It didn't matter much anymore as he adjusted the mask covering his lower face. Hiding his pistols in the baggy pants, he strapped on a dagger to his hip in plain sight. He had an ungodly amount of weapons hidden in his armor, such as the vibroblades in his thigh gauntlets, so he felt naked without the extra protection. This would have to do.

Fugue had caught up with him and was now concealing his blaster as well. They were both decked out in baggy, plain clothing and it was the closest Fugue had ever been to looking like a civilian. He could tell by how Fugue regarded the change in appearance. Delight had been created by the way the cloth made him distinct and unique instead of just another clone.

While Fugue was masking his face, Fox took to searching through his desk. He put the small bag of credits he found in one of his pockets. The Guard had a pot they all contributed to, but this was part of his personal stash. During undercover, people tipped when they didn't realize he was a clone and when they wanted to buy his silence. Vode would do odd jobs when they found the time. For example, Hedy, one of their slicers, did home security for the elite and bugged them as well so the Guard could keep an eye out. It was an invasion of privacy, but the clones had never understood the full weight of the word. No one knew she was a clone obviously. Female clones didn't exist to the public (His mind doesn't feel like adding how Cyto used to go down to the lower levels to offer cheap, sometimes free, medical services. How many families had lost a reliable source of aid because of him? How many civilians died because Cyto was unable to help them?).

Once he saw Fugue was ready, he started heading towards the door and Fugue once again followed after him. The silence was comfortable; Fugue gazed around with pure enthusiasm at the people and buildings as they made their way into the city. Going out into Coruscant as a civilian was a thrilling experience and the thrill was amplified with every new outing. They didn't stand out from the crowd and it would be the sole instance either of them would be excited by fitting in.

"We're going to CoCo Town," he notified his companion as he hailed a taxi.

There was a moment where he questioned how well he had trained Fugue because the other clone squinted in confusion. He whacked his forehead in embarrassment as the destination registered, "Oh, right, Collective Commerce District."

It didn't take long for a speeder to show up and the time it took to pay was even shorter. He relaxed as he let the droid driver do all the work. His hands settled on the top of his stomach as he watched Fugue. Cloth pressed against skin as his thumb stroked his abdomen in protest to the stationary fingers. Fox knew the wiped clone was far too young to have been stripped of his identity and youthfulness shone in his joy of seeing anything other than the walls of Kamino.

"It's fascinating," Fugue sighed with unconcealed wonder. He rested against the arms he had laid on the edge of the cab as he admired the capital.

"If you think this is impressive, you should see Coruscant during the night."

Fugue leaned back fully into the seat. He tilted his head at Fox and it was easy to tell what was hidden behind the mask. A silent thank you was in the glistening brown. Fox did his best to return his appreciation, but he didn't feel like he got it across to the extent he wanted it to. He couldn't fault Fugue for not figuring out how much being around anyone meant to him.

They ended up a few blocks from their destination causing them to rush through the horde of bustling workers. He had started leading Fugue by the hand after he had nearly gotten lost in the moving stream. A calloused hand grasped his own with no hint of greed. So different from the hands he had grown accustomed to: the ones binding wrists above his head as they broke apart legs glued together by sweat and desperation. Sincere affection was a foreign concept to him, but he felt it in Fugue's presence.

After getting out of the crowd, they arrived at their destination. The building in front of them was a diner known for its cheap, quality meals and neutrality. Gang members, criminals, and average citizens were all able to congregate as long as no one stirred anything up. It was a clone-free zone, but the owner would turn a blind eye if they weren't looking for trouble. He had found the place when he was still fresh to the idea of going around in public sans armor. It was the first restaurant he had ever gone to and he was craving one of their signature dishes. Dex's Diner was the supplier of his comfort food.

No one reacted to their entrance besides the droid waitress who told them to seat themselves. A whiff of grease caused a queasy feeling, but as his nose sensed grilled meat he started salivating. The baby was a little confused, but he had spirit. Baby knew what he wanted.

Only when they were about to enter the booth did Fox drop Fugue's hand. Fugue had been turned shy by the contact. Couldn't blame the shiny: it must have been awkward holding hands with his commanding officer.They slid into opposite sides of the booth and waited for service. Fugue and Fox eyed the other customers who were all oblivious of the clones lurking in the room. There was no rationale for paying attention to the pair because nothing differentiated them from the natborns.

It was _nice_. 

When the waitress came by, he ordered for both of them: two nerfburgers, two waters, and caf for Fugue. His partner was stunned by him not getting caf, but he didn't say anything. He hadn't said anything about the fact they were in a natborn restaurant either.

Fox was aiming to cut back on his caf intake. He had already drunk an excessive amount during the beginning of his pregnancy. He had done a whole bunch of things he shouldn't have and he was trying to make up for it.

The hush of carried voices permeated their booth and he cursed himself for not being able to slip into conversation. Fugue didn't seem to care because he began eavesdropping on the exchanges happening around them. Nothing interesting: one person owed a debt of ten thousand credits to a random gang and another had been promoted at their job. Average, everyday details of a normal person, but they soaked up the information because it was the closest they would come to experiencing it.

When their food and drinks came out, he finally saw how much the situation bothered Fugue. He cowered as Fox lowered his mask and his gaze scampered in the direction of the natborns. He leaned towards Fox, keeping low, and whispered, "This has to be against regulations. Won't somebody notice us?"

Fox took a bite out of his burger, taking in what Fugue had said. Not to be overdramatic but it was the best thing he had ever eaten. The taste wasn't registering properly, but food entering his mouth was enough for his mind to go batshit.It was satisfying to bite into because the patty was the perfect texture: right between too soft and too hard. The food at Dex's was consistent, unlike him, and had raised his standards way too high. Clearly, the trait had been passed onto the baby who seemed pretty content with the incoming burst of nutrition.

After the second bite, he answered Fugue's question, "We won't get caught. Most civilians have no idea what we look like." The masks were worn just in case the minority was present, but they should be fine at this establishment. Fugue's worry wasn't unique to him, for Fox had to coax many vode into going out as a civilian for recreational purposes.

Fugue was hesitant at first, but he took off his covering. He sipped his caf, peering over the mug, while Fox nudged his untouched nerfburger towards him, "Give it a try."

Fugue being uptight about doing anything in opposition to the regulations made sense. If a "normal" clone was on thin ice when it came to being decommissioned, a reconditioned clone was floating dead in the water. They had already proven they had undesirable traits and the Kaminoans didn't approve of making the same mistake twice.

The younger clone lifted the burger up and inspected it thoroughly before he nibbled at it. The nibble turned into a proper bite. Today was going to be a time for many firsts because this was also Fugue's first time having natborn food and the introduction of flavor was clear. He had no proper response to the stimulation his taste buds were receiving. He loved experiencing moments like this: seeing a brother live instead of surviving.

"Isn't it so much better than rations?"

Fugue moaned, hiding his mouth as he chewed, " _Kriff_...yeah, it is a lot better."

"Bet nothing beats the food on Kamino," Fox quipped.

He snorted, setting the burger down, "You should've seen the stuff they gave to us on sanitation detail. I was beyond relieved when they told me I was being sent out."

Fox savored his water, "Good to know the Guard is better than sanitation detail." Fuck, water was great too. It cooled his tongue and purified his body as it slipped down his throat.

"Just barely," the corners of Fugue's mouth turned up with his remark. Fugue looked nice when he was happy and Fox wanted to continue seeing this side of him. The light in his stare was comforting and a welcome distraction from Fox's fucked up life.

"Do you know why they sent you out?" He was curious about why Fugue had been sent to the Guard and he prayed it had nothing to do with Palpatine.

"The oldest cadets are too young. They're deployed as soon as they hit sixteen, but it's slowing down business," Fugue responded with melancholy. The light was gone, but his prayers had been answered. Palpatine had not been involved. Though, it verified how out of the loop he was. He knew the situation on Kamino was getting worse, but he didn't realize it had gotten this bad.

"Lowering the age hasn't seemed to bother them before," he didn't bury his distaste.

Fugue didn't either, "It's about the public. Can't miss troopers that haven't reached their last growth spurt, so they might as well use the wiped ones." He said wiped with disdain and exasperation.

"You know you were wiped?"

"Most of us do-," he grimaced,"-I don't want to be the person I was before and I know that's weird, but..."

He deflated: ashamed of his forgotten past. Fox could relate to the crushing uncertainty of sin. Palpatine dangled it above his head but never divulged how many deaths had been on his hands. There were holes in his faultless memory he couldn't evade. The events leading up to the bombing of Coruscant's central power distribution grid, which had effectively prolonged the war, were irretrievable. Times where he had messed up, yet the only memory of the event was him being told about what had happened and the consequences.

He said what he would've liked to hear, "If it's any solace, I think you're doing a great job."

"Thank you, sir," Fugue was one of those vode who blushed easily, but this time he didn't look away. He had gained confidence and had grown familiar with his commander.

"Fox," he suggested.

There was a flash of teeth, "Thank you, Fox."

They went back to eating for a little bit, but there was something disquieting Fugue. It was when Fox finished his meal that Fugue spoke. He fidgeted out a mumble," I know this is dumb and I'm unstable and-." He breathed in to slow down and organize his words, "Can I tell you what I remember? Just to get it out."

Just to feel real.

The vod was choosing to be vulnerable, to bare himself to Fox, and by doing that he was giving him free rein to destroy his dignity. He was putting himself on the line. Fox could empathize with how internalizing could do more damage than the trauma. He could never deny anyone what he longed for: a confidant.

"Go ahead." He was pleased by the jubilance Fugue expressed because of the affirmation.

"They're obscure. Only little blips when I sleep, but some linger," he went slow into his explanation. Based on Fox's prior knowledge, this was the norm for wiped clones: regaining their past until they squandered their present. Having Fox listen to and monitor him would stop Fugue's descent into insanity.

"I remember my ori'vod holding me and telling me everything would be fine," he wrapped his arms around himself, substituting the embrace unknowingly, and his voice was delicate. He trailed off, "What was his name?" Despair etched into Fugue as he strained to remember. He was disturbed and humiliated by the fact he could not recall someone so important to him. Fox believed it to be fully stolen by the Kaminoans, lost to time, until Fugue calmed down.

"Slim. His name was Slim."

Fox hid his shock well, but surely it couldn't mean what he thought it meant. There was no way. It couldn't be. He shoved denial into the truth and begged for it to change.

Fugue took no heed of his surprise, "There was an older man, a trainer, but Slim didn't like it when I was alone with him. It was always easier to do what the natborns wanted than it was to fight back."

If straw had been dropped in Fox's mind, it would've been heard as loud as a bell. All the older vode knew about Slim, but he had had a personal link to the case. Rex was Cody's vod'ika and he often hung around Fox's batch (Keeli also did this.). He could remember Rex telling Cody everything he knew about his decommissioned squadmate. Rex did not once mention another vod, but this virtually nameless brother was proof Slim hadn't been alone. Fugue would've been around three years old; it tore against his soul that at such a young age he had already been polluted and defiled by a natborn.

"I was so confused when I learned not all babies came from decant chambers. He would let me feel the baby kick sometimes. He was going to name her Cyra." Fugue went into those lines cheerful, but his eyes started to mist when he mentioned the baby's name. He rubbed away the tears, "That's all I got."

There was a weight in his chest, pulling him down and blocking his throat, but he numbly nodded. He wasn't going to let his inner turmoil show because he didn't feel like freaking Fugue out or making his mental situation worse. There was a deafening pulse in his skull because Rex didn't know Slim had a name for his daughter. No one knew but the two clones sitting in a booth at Dex's Diner. He was overwhelmed with the awareness of there being more about Slim's situation that would never be discovered. It only made sense he would leave out a few details. Slim had been fifteen and he had probably been scared out of his kriffing mind.

He couldn't help himself or Slim, so he would help Fugue. He couldn't allow Fugue to be overpowered by circumstances so much like his own.

"If you need to talk to someone, you can come to me. I'm sure Thire or Stone wouldn't mind you going to them either. We need our medic to care about his own health."

"We need our commander to care about his own health," Fugue bluntly countered.

This time his shock shone through as Fugue called him out, "I know what malnutrition looks like. I may be wiped but I think I'm at least halfway decent at being a medic."

"Clones were made for situations like this," and he didn't understand why his voice was shaking.

"It doesn't mean you should force yourself into the situation," Fugue chided. He moved his plate, half of a nerfburger still left, closer to Fox. It was an offering.

Fugue hummed contentedly when Fox took it," Blitz said you were an asshole."

The outburst caused him to almost choke on the bite he had taken. The statement came out of nowhere, but Fox went along, "Sounds like him. I can be very apathetic when it comes to my job."

Fugue set his head in a propped up hand, "Isn't that a good trait?"

He could see where Fugue was getting that from. Neutrality was essential for any member of the Guard because of the corrupt nature of the Senate and Coruscant. Occasional indifference had ensured the safety of the people of Coruscant, so he never saw a problem with it. Some people took his lack of bias as insubordination or antipathy.

"Depends on who you ask," Fox shrugged, scarfing down the rest of the burger.

"Well, I don't think you're _that_ apathetic."

"Some high standing people would disagree, but I appreciate the thought," Fox tilted his mouth slightly.

They spent the next hour talking in that booth and it dawned on him that he liked Fugue's company. There was a distinct feeling he got whenever his eyes crinkled and he covered a laugh with his hands. A twist in his abdomen, deep-seated and stubborn, braided while Fugue came further out of his shell. He was hardheaded but unsure and he seemed to like Fox being there. Fox wasn't accustomed to more than a few, select people being able to handle his presence. He was disappointed by their need to leave. In no time, they were both back in their armor and about to part ways. Neither wanted to be the one to say goodbye.

"I really like being around you," Fugue's eyes widened and his arms fluttered out in front of him, "Wait, no, I mean-"

Fox let a soft laugh for what felt like the first time. Joy had been distant since Geonosis, but it glinted the duration of his laughter. Fugue didn't know whether to be offended by or enjoy the brief display. He ruled to enjoy, so he gazed at Fox with the same wonder he had given the city.

"It was nice going out with you, Fugue," Fox smiled and it was real.

\------

For the second time that day, he found himself back in his quarters. It was different from earlier; the room had lost its smothering ambiance. Palpatine had been silent since the morning and there had been no hint of hostility towards Fugue. He couldn't be too careful. It would be best to cut ties now even if he hated to do so.

He sat with his legs crossed on his bunk. It would be appropriate to get out the vision of the day. Meditation had turned into a saving grace. He couldn't fathom what he would've done if he hadn't started because he had been at the end of his rope with the unsolicited advances from the Force. Besides, he was getting the hang of slipping into the visions.

Close eyes.

Regulate breathing.

Take off his helmet.

Open eyes.

He was in a hall. It was covered wall to wall in a dull, metallic grey. In front of him was a doorway being guarded by a duo. The armor they wore was unfamiliar but similar to clone trooper armor. It was stark white with black accents and he could tell by studying at the helmets that they had a terrible field of vision. This was proven further when they didn't notice the person sneaking up behind them.

The shadow was crouching behind the two guards when they sprung up. They grabbed the helmet of one of the guards and brought it down to meet with their knee. Fox watched as the victim loosened his grip on his blaster, allowing the shadow to seize it. Both of the guards were startled, but the shadow was swift. Quickly, they switched the blaster to stun and shot at the duo. The guards dropped limp to the floor and Fox registered who the perpetrator was.

This was the only time Fox had ever seen his face in a vision. Sweat was trickling down after his short maneuver and he was out of breath. He wiped away the sweat with the back of his sleeve. Fox understood he wasn't in the best of shape at the moment, but he had never tired this easily before. He was wearing a pair of bulky boots, grey sweatpants, and the baggiest, black shirt. It seemed like he grabbed the first items he could get his hands on.

A little shadow came out from the doorway, holding a backpack, and attached herself to Fox's leg. Fox patted the head of the young Nikto. He was bad at comforting, but a soft expression took over as his niece lifted her head to receive the tap. He straightened up when he heard footsteps behind him and pivoted around the child to aim at the unknown individual. The figure wore the same tasteless armor as the guards on the ground.

"Don't shoot," the man raised his arms revealing that he had no weapon. He gradually moved to remove his helmet and revealed a vod with three, black lines tattooed from ear to ear over the bridge of his nose.

"Fox, it's me."

That didn't answer any questions. He had never seen this brother before, not to his knowledge at least, but he could see the furrowed brow of himself. That version of him had recognized the man.

"Fugue?" He sounded relieved but taken aback. He didn't lower the blaster, yet Fox could see he didn't want to shoot. This man was nothing like the Fugue he had been with. The tattoo wasn't the only difference between the two because he was hardened and battle-worn. The man in front of him was no longer a shiny.

Fugue eyed the blaster pointed at him, "My chip never got activated. I didn't take part in Order 66." Fox had been right when he thought the purge had been the result of Order 66; he was going to shelf that away for future use. The confusing armor made more sense now if this was the new empire.

"Why should I believe you?" Fox challenged. Pounamu was hiding behind him, trembling as she clenched the backpack. Fox wanted to peek and check on her, but he didn't wish to reveal the ad.

"I've been keeping a low profile," Fugue pleaded, " _Please_."

He lowered the blaster when the desperation Fugue had set in. Fugue was telling the truth. It reminded him of the way Fives had spoken in one of his previous visions: knowing his forlorn attempt was in vain. Penance must be paid for what he could've done to the vod he had never met.

The younger clone took that as cooperation, lowering his hands and moving back to where he had come from. Fox lightly pushed Pounamu into following Fugue, but she halted in her fear of the stranger.

"It's okay," he whispered out of assurance. She gave him the bag, staring a hole through Fugue's back with her distrust, and took off after him. Once he confirmed Pounamu would keep following Fugue, Fox attached the blaster to the backpack and slung it over his shoulder. The fabric of the shirt was caught in the strap which led to it straining over and revealing his protruded abdomen. In a smooth movement, he pulled out the shirt and it was like the bump had never been there.

He couldn't get away from the absolute certainty of the scene. He may not be in this exact situation but the round, swollen belly was inescapable. Resentment was the result of seeing the proof of what Palpatine had done to him. There was the faint pressure of nonexistent hands cupping his stomach and utterances into his neck about how gorgeous he'll be when his body gives in to child.

He had seen his son before and had felt nothing but love, so why did he feel contempt now? He didn't want to be the type of monster to hate their own child, but he didn't see Palpatine in his son whereas he saw him in the bump. It _had_ to be different.

Vision Fox caught up to his companions and slinked through a door into the storage closet they were collecting themselves in. By the time he had enter, Fugue had noticed Pounamu. He gave Fox a questioning stare, but he didn't seem to be searching for answers as he accepted the additional person.

Fugue approached Fox, who was up against the wall, in the oddly spacious closet. He placed a hand on Fox's cheek and, instead of tensing up, Fox relaxed into the touch. The other him intertwined his fingers with Fugue's as they leaned in to each other. Breathing had come to a standstill, noses almost touching, and their foreheads were pressed together.

"Vader said he killed you," Fugue murmured. "He called you a traitor."

"Skywalker wishes he could kill me," he chuckled.

"What does that have to do with Vader?" Fugue questioned, blinking profusely.

"Right,” Fox rolled his eyes," Vader is saying he murdered Skywalker. He's so fucking pretentious. Senator Amidala was way too good for him, I swear. It's a pity what Palpatine did to her."

If Fox understood that correctly, he was implying Palpatine killed Senator Amidala which was interesting to mull over. That could be what turned Skywalker to the Dark Side. Good to know a possible motive, but Fugue didn't share his response as he split from Fox. Fugue tilted his head to the side and crossed his arms, squinting as he tried to come up with a reason behind why Fox knew those things.

Fox began explaining, "Palpatine-," but was interrupted by a pained gasp escaping his lips. His hands hovered over his stomach as he threw his head and torso into the wall, bracing against it. His breathing sped up before moderating and Fugue was troubled by the unsourced pain.

Fugue reached out to steady Fox, but instead, he grabbed Fugue's hand with a wince. Fox pushed out his words, "We need to-

The voice was halted as the closet disappeared with a blackout. It was replaced by a cacophony. As he listened closely to the clangor, he picked up a human-sounding noise. The noise wasn't a random ring in his head, but the agonized screams of millions blurred together so finely not one person came forward in the sound. They were trapped. Fox could feel their regret being buried as the days turned into years of service and they lost everything they once were. No memories past the previous day and continuing only because they saw no other choice.

Howls faded as the darkness recoiled from the light of the ship he had been transported to. A shrill cry did not fade along with the rest. He turned to see himself sitting against a wall rocking a blanketed newborn in his arms. Fox kneeled down to get a closer look at the red-faced infant screeching their chubby, little face off. This innocent creature was growing inside of him and he had hurt them before they were even born. There was so much love settling into his heart as he watched the agitated baby. He needed to be better for his child, but why did it have to be a constant reminder? Why couldn't he just be complete?

Someone was rummaging through a bag behind him, but he couldn't take his eyes off his son. The same person came to sit on the opposite side of Fox from where he was kneeling. Fugue offered Fox a baby bottle and he thanked him with a nod. His son latched hungrily onto the bottle. He had stopped wailing, but fat droplets dwelled on his cheeks anyways. Fox wiped them off as the baby sucked down the milk.

Fugue sliced through the silence, "It's not good to have your thoughts cooped up."

Fox hadn't taken notice of himself, but when he did he recognized the expression. He was deciding whether or not he could trust the person in front of him. He gazed away from Fugue; he bored straight at Fox. His stare went through Fox, scouring through his remorse for an explanation. He exhaled deeply, closing his eyelids, and then faced Fugue with a newly established peace.

"The Emperor is his sire," Fox breathed out and he could see the weight of the secret lift. Even if Fugue didn't accept him, he was still able to get it off his chest and that was enough.

Fox expected disgust, but Fugue only exhibited sorrow and understanding, "Fives and Cyto?"

The other him lowered his head in shame. Tears brimmed his eyes because of the thought of what he had done and finally being able to disclose everything.

"Stone told me to distance myself from you, but you were always kind to me," Fugue admitted.

"Palpatine used your life against me on a few occasions," he stopped feeding the baby. He stroked the side of their face as they were lulled to sleep.

"After Fives, I was a mess. You weren't there to see how scared everyone was of me. Cyto was the only reason I knew I was pregnant and Thorn-," a soft, defeated smile graced his face,"-No one cared that I shut myself off because they were just waiting for me to go crazy again."

He was beginning to understand the difference between the future he saw and the present he had. The main differences were not killing Fives, the biochips, and the visions. He had discovered he was pregnant because of the visions, not Cyto. He pondered over why these specific factors changed. He could be seeing into a different timeline or a parallel universe. Why did the Force have to be so confusing? But he had accepted that every vision had a purpose.

Fugue scooted closer and it astounded him how Fugue could see the good in a freak like him. Fox hesitantly lounged onto his shoulder. They molded into the other's side, making sure the infant was comfortable as they did so. Fugue opened his mouth to speak but paused, thinking over what to say.

"Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la," Fugue started. The other him glanced up at Fugue and they gazed into each other's eyes. Fugue placed an arm under Fox's, wrapping the other around his shoulder, as he joined in on supporting the baby. It was strangely intimate and Fox could feel the twist tighten in his stomach. He didn’t know what the feeling meant. It scared him how much he cared about the reconditioned clone.

Fugue continued, "He is not defined by his dar'buir."

He told himself that every day, but it was so much better knowing someone else believed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a mad lad Fox is for getting all this appreciation. Also, sorry for how long this took. I think this is the longest chapter, so it took a wee bit longer than I thought. That is becoming a common theme.
> 
> The canon timeline has been chopped.


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The author comes out of their hibernation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a writing side adventure. Long time no update.
> 
> I also got a beta reader: tiltheendofthelinemyass

Being called a reg was a very spiritual experience. It made Fives reflect on who he was and how far he had come. From an unexceptional trooper destined to die along with the majority of his squadmates to becoming an ARC with his brother; how he had moved through the ranks was unprecedented. He was a husband, soon a father, yet these achievements were more meaningful than becoming an ARC Trooper or a lieutenant. He had a purpose beyond himself or the GAR, and it was terrifying to be given something that could be taken away so easily. 

Being called a reg gave him perspective and helped him realize he didn't care for the words of some pasty bitch whose only personality trait was shooting well. 

He couldn't say he didn't like the Bad Batch, but he could say he loved their unique approach. The fighting style was revolutionary as it allowed a small squad to do the work of hundreds and Fives hoped to see it implemented in the 501st. They were incredibly reckless, but they never did anything they didn't believe they could do. The wonderful mix of arrogance and genuine capability was fascinating to watch unfold. Fives would have enjoyed working with the Bad Batch again, but that wouldn't happen if he allowed Rex to do as he wished. Put all the emphasis on that  _ if _ because Fives wasn't going to let Rex decide for him. 

Realizing his brother was alive, and he  _ was _ alive, was not doing good things to his mental stability. He had only recently started recovering from Echo's disappearance and it wouldn't have been possible to progress as much as he had without his cyar'ika. Tup was his riduur but, before that, he had been his best friend, his support. They had been there for each other when their usual sources of comfort had vanished (The younger hadn't at first gone to Fives, for he had found relief at the side of many.).

Fives wished for Tup and Echo to finally be able to meet. They were the people who had impacted his life the most and it was insane that they had never truly known the other. If his brother had been there, Fives would've begged for him to lead their riduurok. Fives would've confided in him over his fear of failing his child: the war was straightforward where parenting was unpredictable. Echo would've been able to understand how much of an idiot Rex was being and might be able to talk sense into him. He wanted his family to be complete.

Sitting on his bunk in the empty barracks, helmet resting in his hands, wasn't doing anything to help quell his anger. That bastard had no idea what it was like to lose his flesh and blood. The feeling was far more severe than losing a vod as it ripped into who Fives was and defined his actions more than he was willing to admit. Fives had to keep his mind off the hut'uun known as Rex. If he didn't, Fives would end up putting him in a chokehold. He had always wished to find out how long it took to suffocate someone. 

Rex had no right to cut Fives off from his twin. 

He had no kriffing right. 

His fingers dug into the sides of plastoid as the painted eel stared back at him. It looked so harmless in a simplified form, but the beady eyes made him remember how swiftly Cutup had been taken. The eyes had been the one thing he had been able to process before his brother was gone along with the distant screams of him being torn apart. His stomach had dropped and simmered at the finality of the dissolve. Like their namesake, his squadmates had fallen one by one until he was alone. 

He hated the dots of crimson surrounded by dent marks and scraped blue: a yellow tinge surrounded by dirt in deep crevices brought attention to the once bright color. A usual symbol of his perseverance and determination showed the true cowardice he locked under his skin. Bearing through its frozen glare was cracking the remains of his sanity. 

It didn't take much for him to finally break, for he hurled the helmet into the wall of the barracks with all the resentment he had wanted to unleash towards Rex. The satisfying clang of his armor against metal, which reverberated throughout the barracks, was short-lived and he was once again left secluded. 

He wished he could talk to himself without coming off as crazy because sometimes the only way to get through the war was by pretending nothing had changed. Fives could easily adopt the subtle tone and pitches of his squadmates or, at least, it sounded enough like he remembered for it to feel real. Hearing their voices out loud was infinitely better than them being in his head. There was comfort in the vibrations of sound against the walls that couldn't be found when he was trapped by his thoughts. 

Yet, he was not the one to free himself. 

Someone coughed behind him. Not to catch his attention, as the noise was stuttered and hacked out, but because they were choking on a ration bar. With how grainy and dry the bars could be at times, they were a choking hazard. It was the designated eating time so it made some sense that a person would be gasping for dear life behind him, but it didn't give any indication of why they were in the barracks. Fives did appreciate his alone time despite his extroverted personality. 

But, his spirit was nevertheless lifted once his sight landed on the beautiful image of his riduur slowly dying by the hands of a ration bar. Truly a sight to behold: his hair softly flowing to reach his shoulders, a light blush on his cheeks, a slight crease in his brows, and the way he covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he cleared his throat. There was a subtle perfection in everything he did. Force, Fives adored his husband. 

Fives knew that Tup was eating more than he had before the pregnancy. It wasn't more than a few hundred calories, but food was hard to come by with how thinly spread out the rations were. Tup often had to take donations from other vode to reach his minimum calorie count and Fives could tell he felt terrible about taking away from their fellow troopers. Yet, he understood it was necessary to sustain their child.

Which was why it made sense that Tup had two ration bars on him: the one he had choked up and was currently forcing back down, and the one in his left hand. When Tup started the next one, he began to take notice of the fact that Fives was staring at him. The blush from before crept back up leaving his face nicely dusted. Both seemed flustered by their husband witnessing a moment of imperfection, but there would be surely more to come in their marriage. 

Fives swung his legs around to the other side of the bunk so that he would be facing Tup. He motioned towards the spot next to him as he took his riduur in. Even with his exhaustion and the paleness of his face, there was a grace and solidity in his stance. (How had Fives not noticed that earlier? He chided himself for not being aware of how sickly his riduur was when he left.) Regardless, Fives was unable to coat the concern in his eyes, and he could detect that the feeling was mutual for Tup glanced with pursed lips at the helmet coming to a standstill from its brief roll on the floor. 

"They've been very draining today," Tup admitted, overcoming the silence, as he patted his middle and walked up to Fives. He sounded exhausted which was only highlighted by his subtle wince and the tensing of his fingers against his abdomen. 

As Tup softly touched Fives' knees with his own, Fives settled his hands on his husband's hips. He didn't need to look up to know Tup was grinning as he pressed his forehead against his partner's armored stomach and scolded, "Stop giving your bu a hard time." However, nothing could have stopped him from fully appreciating Tup's amusement when he came back up (Fives could detect the grime of the dirtied plating against his skin which Tup wiped off with a thumb and smirk.).

"Tell them that during the next sleep cycle," Tup rubbed above where their child was moving and hummed. He smiled softly, tearing at Fives' heart like it was nothing, "They missed their buir."

He knew it was Tup talking, but it didn't take away from the fact that one day their child would be able to miss him. That the child might miss him for the very reasons Fives ignored when Rex refused to let him go to Skako Minor. The anger simmering inside of him had been quelled slightly by the presence of his ad and riduur, yet somehow it wasn't enough. He didn't wish to lash out at Tup, so he decided to calm himself down in the method Tup and he usually utilized. 

"Can I?" Fives asked without words but with a faint tilt of his head. A silent conversation they often had whenever Tup or he needed to unwind. 

Tup nodded as he sat himself down onto the bunk, peeking over at his husband as he combed his finger through curled locks to prep them. Tup preferred getting the knots out of his hair on his own because he claimed Fives was far too rough and that the tugging was reserved for special occasions. 

The hair of his riduur was a mystery in and of itself. It could go from greasy and crinkled from staying in a tie for days to flowing loosely as it framed defined features in a matter of a few minutes. Fives couldn't imagine the maintenance required, but he supposed practice had molded a nimble routine. Regardless, Fives did adore the possibility of having an ad with hair like Tup's: a little kid who would cherish having their hair intricately patterned and spending time with their buir. 

Fives had gotten into the habit of braiding not that long after Umbara. He had caught Dogma swiftly cording and uncording Tup's hair as they attempted to relax after another day of enduring the compassion of Umbara. They barely spoke, for both were lost in the destressing task (That brief glimpse was among the few times Fives saw Dogma without his hair slicked back and he had never realized that it was longer than the standard cut until then.). Dogma had years of experience over him, but Fives was willing to put in the effort to catch up even if he felt terrible about Dogma never being allowed to progress. He had done Dogma wrong in so many ways. 

It was after Fives had first been allowed to mess with Tup's hair (Force, it had been tangled in every possible way.) that Fives was met with a discovery: the adoration Tup had given him through the glimmer at the corner of his eye. Even after taking in the disastrous braid, Tup continued giving him that very admiration. The act was far more vital than the product. 

It had resulted in their first kiss, a brief brush of his cheek that left him dazed and wanting more. Fives was grateful it had, for he couldn't think of a life without Tup at his side.

Positive memories were associated with the activity and Fives had improved since the initial encounter. Like Dogma, Fives used the repetitive motion to calm himself and reflect. Tup had always enjoyed the feeling of a brother touching and manipulating his locks. He claimed to have a barely-there memory from when he was little of an older cadet sitting him on his lap while he taught Dogma how to braid his hair. 

The comforting texture of hair between his fingers added to the effect of mindless repetition. His hair reached about a quarter of the way down his back when thoroughly straightened, but, at the moment, it reached a little past his shoulders. Tup seemed to be enjoying the slow progression of the coil, softly humming a Mandalorian chant as he stroked his stomach. Once he was about ready to finish, Tup handed him the elastic that was around his wrist and Fives firmly secured the braid. 

After Tup had inspected the braid, the admiration of every time before clear in his eyes, he brought it so that it would hang over the front of his shoulder. He then turned to his husband to see if the technique worked.

"Better?"

Fives let his head fall into Tup's shoulder as he mumbled, "Rex is a shabuir."

"Is this about Echo?"

It amazed him how his husband could deduce what was happening, but that praise existed for a millisecond until it was disintegrated by logic. Kix hadn't known completely about the anger because he was preoccupied with keeping Cody alive and Fives didn't believe the Bad Batch had been anywhere near Tup. 

Lifting his head and glaring at Tup, he made his accusation, "He sent you here to stop me."

Tup held eye contact and reminded him that they were equally stubborn, "He has a point." Their child was going to be an adorable nightmare if they ended up anything like their parents. 

"What if you could get Dogma back?" It was a desperate reach for Tup to see from his perspective and the reaction was a matter of a quick sharpening of his husband's gaze. While he had not managed to have Tup shift to his point of view, he did influence the adoption of the very rage he felt towards Rex. It was subtle and not as brutal, but it was personal rage like Fives'.

His voice was steady, but there was a rush to it. Anger was being concealed by serenity: "The relationship I had with Dogma is extremely different from the one you have with Echo."

"How?" It was abrupt and he was regretting his decision to bring up Dogma because of how calm Tup was coming off as. 

"Did you have sex with Echo?" and Tup chuckled at his husband's obvious disgust.

"Gross," Fives wrinkled his nose, "Don't joke about that." Having sex with Echo would have been wrong on every level, but the question was the storm after the calm. It was what he deserved and he was thankful to see the calm diminish into the chuckles.

Fives already knew enough about Tup's sex life before their relationship started to last him a lifetime. Walking in on Hardcase, Dogma, and Tup had satisfied Fives' curiosity. Well, not satisfied because his interest was piqued ever so slightly. Dogma and Tup were oddly flexible, and Fives had been aroused by Tup locking eyes with him as he rode Hardcase.

Tup, despite his previous laughter, went into his query with a serious tone, "Have you ever considered that Echo may be alive, but he might not be your brother anymore?"

At Fives' clear confusion of what he meant, Tup softened and cupped his cheek, "Think about it, Fives. We can withstand up to a certain amount of torture and were trained to die before letting information slip. He's been used as an algorithm for over a year. Imagine what they would have to do to keep him pliant."

Face crumbling, Fives mused over a possibility that he had ignored. He was truly afraid of his brother being a shell of the person he once was. Instead of his brother's life, his individuality and determination and hard-headedness and intelligence and kindness and humor and everything that had made him Echo would be gone. It would destroy Fives and Tup empathized because he held the same fear. 

Hands falling from his face, Tup grabbed Fives' hands in his own and never broke eye contact. 

Tup was there and wouldn't leave him. 

"I understand you want to go. I would support you if the situation was different, but I need you-," Tup placed his palm on his stomach, "-We need you."

There was life under his hands. The braid on his shoulder and the baby in his belly were indicators of how Tup was his and he was Tup's. He couldn't allow Tup to be taken from him because of his actions. His child and Tup were undeniable realities that were not meant to be sacrificed. He couldn't trade this certainty for a slim chance. 

Tup was biting his lip and watching his expressions; his eyes were active, soaking in the information that Fives didn't even notice he was giving. Tup had done just as Rex had wanted him to and it had worked effortlessly.

He sighed out an admittal of defeat, "That was incredible emotional manipulation."

"It's why I did it," Tup titled his head as he smugly grinned. Yet, Fives could tell what he had said was true: Tup would have supported him if he hadn't been pregnant. Fives imagined Rex would have supported him if Tup hadn't been pregnant, but Fives acknowledged that his child was far more important than his brother.

"It worked," Fives glanced at the intertwined hands resting on top of their child and he was glad he had been convinced. He still joked, "I hope Rex is proud of himself for using my own riduur and ad'ika against me."

Tup looked down to where Fives' sight had landed before coming back up and squeezing the hands in his. His visage was bright, vibrant, and glowing as he confided, "Ad'ike."

There was a shock much like the one he had felt when he learned he was going to have a child except now it was the same child with an additional passenger. He was still stunned about the existence of his first child so a second was world-altering. He couldn't mask the grin that spread across his face at the news, "So I was right to ask if we were having twins? Is that why Kix needed an ultrasound?" Fives would be ecstatic if Kix had only been wanting an ultrasound for that and not something that would harm Tup or the babies (He was going to have to get used to saying that. He recognized that maybe Tup hadn't been exaggerating when he said he was showing. Fives hadn't wanted to believe anything was abnormal about Tup's pregnancy because it would mean something was wrong. He couldn't bear losing any of them.). 

Tup moved his head from side to side as he weighed his answer, "I also have anemia-," he paused and thought over revealing another important development, "-Kix is training me to be a medic."

Letting go of Tup's hands, Fives crossed his arms as he pondered, "Good way to get you off the battlefield, but I didn't realize we could get anemia."

"With enough stress," Tup responded and — with two babies, the war, the lack of rations, and the threat of being decommissioned — the stress must have been immense. 

Pushing the braid behind his back and missing the physical contact of before, Tup began to crawl in the lap of his husband as he straddled him. Fives could practically taste the hormones coming off of the carrier as Tup pressed forward into a deep kiss. As Fives got trapped in the depths, he wrapped his arms around the small of Tup's back and pulled himself deeper into the water. Fives hadn't noticed this when he left for the Cyber Center, but he was pretty sure Tup's lips were plumper than before because they were oddly soft as he bit and teased them. As Tup pulled away, pupils dilated and blown, he whispered into Fives' ear, "Two girls and a boy."

Giggling as Tup nipped his lobe, he whispered back, "Your math is off."

"They're not twins."

Blinking profusely, he exclaimed out of astonishment, "We really don't do anything half-assed." There was nothing else to say. His mind was imploding. Three kids seemed so much larger than two. There weren't that many kids, but it was more than the perceived one by about, let's say, two whole children. He took back his statement about twins being world-altering because three stole the title. He didn't even realize three kids was something that could happen to them. 

"Can I see them?" Fives asked after processing what he could.

"Help me get this off then," Tup teased, pointing at his armor, as he stood up from the bunk but he was close enough that Fives could sit while he helped his husband strip. 

Getting the upper half of Tup's armor off was as simple as any previous occurrence and just as thrilling. A difference was found in the low moan that escaped the lips of his husband as the flexible cushion and belt came off, a dust of tears sprinkling on his bottom lashes. In those beginning moments, Fives couldn't understand where the pain was originating from, yet he was nevertheless concerned. The blacks helped hide any change from the front, but it soon became clear how much it was covering when Tup unzipped and lowered his blacks until they settled under the overhang of his belly. 

The observation Fives had at first was that Tup had gotten pudgy around his middle, but, as he kept studying, he could recognize what he knew to be the truth. Anaxes had stolen so much time from their relationship. He realized how Tup's body had changed over the weeks and how it had led to the formation of a small yet full bump. It was undeniable that Tup was pregnant based on how tight the skin was; there were the startings of small, dark reddish-brown lines where his skin had been more stretched at the bottom and sides of his midsection. There was a lopsided nature to it, but Tup didn't seem that bothered by his stomach shifting slightly to the right. However, what seemed the most strange and fascinating to Fives were the brief raises of skin. Tup was also in complete wonder as he touched above the shifting limbs inside of him. 

Fives didn't know what grabbed hold of him when he brought his lips to kiss the movement of their children, but it was worth the brief glimpse of Tup smiling down at him as he gave affection to their children. It was worth every second of being near his children and, as a sharp kick was delivered from his aspiring soldier, Fives couldn't stop from laughing into the bump.

He couldn't give this up. 

\------

Kix wasn't as oblivious as Tup thought he was. He had noticed how quickly his vod'ika had turned protective when the droid touched him. The darting eyes and clenched hands at his sides hadn't exactly hidden the response.

Tup had only been helping him a few hours when the 91st medic informed Kix on the matter after realizing who the new medic was. Kix had suspected something was happening behind his back through the abnormal behavior of Tup's reflexes (Tup had an astounding reaction time that was rivaled solely by his riduur, but he was usually able to determine and react to just threats.). The other man had been curious about the pregnant shiny who had ripped one of his trooper's arms out of the socket. The 91st medic wasn't angry, he was honestly impressed, because he believed Tup was justified in the incident. Based on what he said, Tup had exhibited an immense amount of control by not killing them. Kix approved of Tup's decision as he would've done the same thing if anyone had groped his stomach and asked if he knew who the father was. As Kix believed, Tup normally countered genuine dangers but repeated instances could have led to the problem. Loathing the possibility didn't stop it from existing.

Harassment was common and Kix hated to admit how corrupted his brothers could be. His vode would never even think about revealing a pregnancy to an outsider, yet that didn't mean they were virtuous about the situation. 

Kix hadn't been tormented by any vod, but an instructor had made him strip in front of the rest of the medic track as he critiqued his waning form. Tears had escaped as the instructor bound his hands behind his head so he couldn't cover his stomach. He had called him defective beyond saving and ordered him to lose the weight unless he preferred being decommissioned. Kix had convinced himself that Slim had been a fluke; he ignored his pudgy middle, widened hips, and halted growth as if they were symptoms of his inadequacy. Regardless, starving himself had done nothing but highlight the swelling. He had never been unable to conceal the bump under his uniform, but he panicked every time he saw the trainer. Kix had worried over the man knowing about the persistent fat. Waiting had driven him to the brink.

Would today be when he was pulled aside to be dealt with?

He had done a lot of good for his vode during his pregnancy, but he had been horrible to himself and Coyote. If it hadn't been for Jesse, they both would have been dead. 

Yet, what Waxer had undergone was comparable to what Tup was currently facing. Kotyc and Mirdala had been delivered by Kix when he was in the early stages of his own labor. They were the first set of multiples that the clones were aware of, so Waxer had been ostracized during his pregnancy. The size of a vod with full-clone twins was about the same as a vod with a half-clone, half-human singleton; most of their brothers assumed he had lied about who the sire was to either save his baby or reputation. At the time, there was no way they would have been able to secure a future for a half-natborn child as they aged differently, and this caused many to aim for Waxer's stomach during training. The medic had performed numerous abortions and removals of a miscarried fetus, but the vod had always consented beforehand. Disgust was what he felt for the aruetiise who had tried to harm their aliit. Kix had never doubted the child was Boil's, yet he had been shocked when two babies came out instead of one. 

Waxer had once divulged to him over a child he met on Ryloth and how she had reminded him of what he imagined his kids would be like. He had joked over how uncomfortable Boil was around children, but Waxer deduced that it had a lot to do with what he saw in Numa. 

The buir who had marched on was a decent comparison, but there hadn't been a third child residing with the rest. Kix hadn't dealt with a pregnant vod since he was a cadet, but he liked knowing how to handle a pregnancy in his new environment just in case. He was aware of most of the medic gossip, which was an entirely different brand from clone gossip, so he understood what was happening in the rest of the GAR when it came to the second-generation. The 13th Battalion was what came to mind when he first began searching for information. 

Toxin was the medic under General Tapal and an avid supporter of Kix's theory of Lasat heritage. They had discussed the notion thoroughly after Toxin had knocked up his captain as the general was half-Lasat (Toxin understood far more about Lasat biology than Kix ever could and it was fascinating to hear his viewpoint on the matter.). There had been some suspicion on the general's side, but the assumption that the clones were entirely human had deterred him from further investigation. They had been able to hide the pregnancy until Buruk gave birth and, based on what Kix had heard, it was entirely reliant on a combination of loose-fitting clothing, praying to the Manda, and luck. 

But, that was one triplet pregnancy. He had heard of stillborns, miscarriages, successes, failures, and that didn't even count the brothers who had never detected their pregnancy. 

Kix was trying to lift the burden from Tup, but there were so many variables Kix couldn't control. Stress wasn't good for the babies, and Tup having three was something Kix was going to have to get used to. Getting him off the battlefield and dealing with his anemia was a good first step, but Kix still had to find a suitable replacement for when Tup could no longer fit in his armor. Triplets had explained the proper bump Tup was sporting which was about the size Kix had been at full-term. 

It was weird to think that those three kids were the result of their time on Coruscant. If Ahsoka hadn't been deemed a terrorist, their children wouldn't have even been a thought. During Ahsoka's trial, Tup had not-so-quietly invited Fives to the refresher at 79's where they had stayed even after Kix and Jesse had left. 79's had always been a baby factory in Kix's humble opinion (Kix couldn't blame them for having sex while intoxicated because Coyote was the byproduct of him coming down from a spice high.). The bar was the quickest and easiest way for a shiny to find themselves with an extra passenger that had been unknowingly given by a natborn. The pregnancy rate had skyrocketed at the beginning of the war because of how clueless his vode were about what species they were compatible with. Kix was relieved there had been no need to deal with that because he had heard the horror stories of the insane number of knocked up clones some medics had to handle. 

Speaking of medics handling more than they ought to, Kix hadn't been surprised to find one of the Bad Batch standing idly in the medbay with multiple blaster wounds in his side and his shoulder not properly relocated.

Wrecker and Crosshair had decided to spar and it went as "it usually did" which Wrecker declared with a boisterous laugh. He went further on to talk about how Crosshair would be the one visiting the medics next time if he had anything to say about it. The words coming out of his mouth were as idiotic as a shiny who wouldn't reveal a wound, but it was a pretty mouth. 

Hunter had been the vod to force him to seek out help because they couldn't be wasting any more of their medical supplies on Wrecker and Crosshair's excessive sparring. It had also been in an open enough space with enough witnesses to warrant Hunter pushing Wrecker to the medbay. Hunter had told Wrecker to wait specifically for the medic that had come to the Cyber Center with them because he was slightly more trustworthy than the other regs. Kix didn't know if that was a compliment or not. 

"You aren't afraid of anything," Kix commented after dislocating and popping his shoulder back into place properly unlike Wrecker's attempt. Most troopers would react through the barest of flinches, but Wrecker was a blank slate. 

"Nothing can touch me," Wrecker puffed out his chest as he bragged. 

Kix skeptically raised his brow, "Except Crosshair? You shouldn't be getting hurt before a mission." The concern of a medic leaked through into his words as he began applying bacta patches along his torso where Crosshair had shot him repeatedly. They hadn't been sparring in armor, which was the worst decision, but it explained the severity of the impacts. They had already been cauterized, yet the skin was taking a sheen to it around the edges so he was probably burned as well. 

Glimpsing up, he realized he had been so lost in his task that he hadn't detected that Wrecker was shifting uncomfortably on the examination table. There was an innocence that he hadn't seen before that spread throughout him: from the pale white of his fake eye to the scars brandishing his entire body (His incredibly muscular and cut body that Kix had to stop himself from salivating.). He inferred Wrecker didn't get genuine concern from anyone outside of his squad. Despite his stature, he came off as small when he began hunkering over and closing in. 

He muttered, obviously humiliated like he had been poked fun of before, "Heights bother me." A confession made because he felt he could be vulnerable and, Force, those standards were low. Kix speculated over what vode would be cruel or oblivious enough to attack such a meaningful fear. 

"I don't like heights much either," Kix agreed in understanding and Wrecker stared at him as if he had never received a reaction like that before. 

He explained with a bittersweet tone, "I have a son. He just turned ten."

Kix glanced at Wrecker and he saw a child who comprehended that they were unwanted. He saw himself as a cadet with the rain crashing down on him, leaving his clothing pressed against the curve of his abdomen as his baby kicked frantically. It was as if they were scared and felt the weight of what their bu was planning to do. He wondered if Wrecker had experienced the relief he had or if he had even gotten that far. Had Wrecker been saved by someone or was it the very strength he was going to be decommissioned for?

He didn't have much time to think about it as a pair of arms slinked around his waist and pressed into his back. Kix hadn't spoken to or seen Jesse in a couple of days, so it was most likely a check-in.

"Cyare, I'm in the middle of something," Kix chastised as finished applying the last patch. He could feel as Jesse rested his chin on his shoulder, peeking curiously at the clone he was attending to.

Both were intrigued by the other, so Kix introduced them, "Wrecker, this is Jesse, my riduur."

Jesse was thinking the same thing he was: Wrecker could crush his skull with his thighs and he would give credits to have that happen. Jesse acted like he was meaning to whisper, but his voice carried, "You said he was good-looking, but I don't think you gave him enough credit."

Of course, Kix hadn't talked about Wrecker to Jesse. This was Jesse's way of letting him know that he had permission to pursue Wrecker as long as he was invited. Which was growing in probability based on how flustered the compliment had gotten Wrecker. 

What was unexpected was how Jesse tightened the grip around his waist and picked him up. As his feet tried to touch the ground, Kix pushed against the arms holding him, "What the hell are you doing?" The response was Jesse flipping him over his shoulder in a smooth transition so that his pauldron was digging into Kix's stomach as he viewed his husband's back. 

Laying in complete shock, Jessie explained his motive as he started heading out, "A little birdie told me you haven't slept in almost a week."

"That little birdie is a liar," and Kix prayed Jesse would take his word. Sadly, the little birdie entered his section of the medbay after having finished his duties. 

"A thirty-minute nap does not count as sleeping," Tup appeared in Kix's line of sight as he walked to Wrecker's table. Wrecker seemed confused by the display but also entertained. 

Kix pushed up on Jesse's back so that he could glare at Tup, "Traitor."

"I can cover for you," Tup shouted an assurance to a wiggling Kix who was being kidnapped and transported out of the medbay. 

"I can't just take a break," Kix had struggled at the beginning of the journey to the barracks before submitting to take in his husband's ass which was rudely covered by the kama. His husband got to gaze upon his ass, so it was unfair in every way. This arrangement was far better when Jesse wasn't an ARC. At least he couldn’t see the side-eyes and peeks of his vode at the strange couple. 

"Who's going to stop you?" It was a great question because Kix was the head medic and technically no one could stop him from caring about his health. 

"Myself," he mumbled like the tired grump he was when they finally arrived at the barracks.

"Kixystix," Jesse whined the nickname as old as their relationship.

"Jess'ika, you're being ridiculous," his pitch went up for the last bit as he was dumped onto his bunk. 

Jesse crossed his arms, sternly affirming, "I'm not leaving until you go to sleep."

His husband was right at the edge of the bunk so it didn't take much for Kix to prop himself upon his knees and press his body into Jesse's. His voice was breathless and suggestive, hands creeping down his husband's armor, "We could do other things." 

Jesse was in such dangerous proximity to him and it had been so long. Kix could push off sleep for just a few more minutes. He could practically feel the faint brush of his husband's lips against his own, so he couldn't have been helped when he wrapped his arms around Jesse's neck to pull him down onto the bunk. Jesse gave little resistance and Kix could hear his breath quickening as he applied his weight onto the medic. The removal of their armor and blacks was slow in a manner that would allow their desire to grow and grow it did. Jesse's eyes were heavy with lust; his hands drawn to the subtle curve of Kix's hips. They were a tad bit wider than those of his vode, but he was only reminded of this fact whenever he could detect the soft touch of his lover against his waist. 

Kix imagined a scene from back when they were cadets: back when they were still exploring their sexual desires and limits. He could recall a hitched breath and feeling fuller than usual as Jesse nipped at the back of his neck. There had been a deep thump in his stomach that he had ignored until it became as steady as his heart. He remembered how his legs began trembling under the weight as the water washed down his face in a pattern so indistinguishable from rain Kix didn't believe he would've realized the difference. He could recall how Jesse held him tight against his bare chest, terrified but understanding, as Kix sobbed into his shoulder. Kix could practically feel the ghost of faint murmurs from when Jesse had reassured him that he wasn't at fault. He didn't blame Kix and he never would. They were unfairly burdened with a situation no child, no person, should have to deal with and it made sense that they hadn't a single clue of how to move forward.

So much like Tup in ways his brother might never understand. 

"When are you expected to go back to your highly important, lieutenant duties?" Kix teased, but he was nevertheless pleased by the response.

A response that left him pretending, for just the small moment in which he allowed himself, that the war was over. Finally, they were able to give in to their indulgences after years of waiting; there was no need for a layer of protection between them. 

The thing was that Kix had been deprived.

Deprived of a childhood.

Deprived of his freedom and choice.

But, most significantly, he had been deprived of the opportunity to raise Coyote. Tup had unknowingly revitalized his paternal longing that began when he swapped his baby with a stillborn vod and had no other option but to walk away. Seeing Tup beam as he cradled his growing stomach made Kix miss his son, but it also reminded him of his desire to carry more children after the war. He had dreamt of starting a family with Jesse even before he was aware of Coyote's existence. It was more than an instinctual response though, for it was pure yearning.

He had claimed Tup as his vod'ika, yet that didn't stop the trickle of jealousy. Kix was a logical person and he knew he should wait unless he wished to be deemed a hypocrite. Regardless, Kix needed his womb filled as soon as the war ended. He didn't give a damn about where they were going to be when the news broke out. It could be the mess hall for all he cared. Their vode better enjoy the show because Jesse wouldn't stop until Kix was pregnant. Coyote deserved little siblings, a normal life, and the buire had already discussed how large of a brood they wanted.

Which wasn't the ideal discussion to bring back up in the middle of intercourse. It did result in Kix shivering with desire as Jesse whispered into his neck over how beautiful he would be when he was stuffed full of his children. The afterthought of keeping Kix knocked up resulted in a tingling sensation moving from the pit of his stomach and right through his pelvis. Somehow Jesse made him even more inflamed by adding how their ade wouldn't be able to recognize Kix when he didn't have another batch on the way.

They planned on having a decent number, nothing more than fifteen (A number that would have come off as excessive to natborns seemed quite reasonable to two clones.). Jesse and Kix still wanted the ability to create substantial and meaningful relationships with all of their ade. But, deep down, Kix was hoping to make up for all the brothers whose chances had been lost and the brothers he had failed. Having children that would live without the burden their parents and oldest sibling had been forced to bear was the only way Kix could see himself separating from his restraints.

For this reason, he imagined slick coating his inner walls and running down his legs as Jesse released, his length thoroughly filling him. It was satisfying knowing that in a few days a zygote would begin the process of growing into his second child. Outside of the blind euphoria, Kix was still rendered helpless by the pleasure running throughout him.

Sadly, fantasy was not reality. Despite the light ecstasy and tender graze of Jesse's hand against his abdomen, they wouldn't be giving Coyote a sibling until they knew they were safe. That didn't stop him from grinning as Jesse continued touching and giving affection to his empty stomach after he had slipped out of him. Kix wasn't alone in his submission to the fantasy and there was some comfort to be found in this fact. He could only hope, as he drifted off to sleep, that he would live long enough to see it become more than a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people may ask: how did Coyote not recognize Rey sooner? Well, I want to add in that Kix had to actively prove he was Coyote’s dead bu for over two hours before it clicked. It was the, ”CT-53-1286, I don’t know how your buir raised you, but if you ever treated him like this, may the Manda bless this hand, I would’ve smacked the disrespect right out of you,” that really helped Kix’s case. Rene did not.


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m inviting y’all to come join us down at the Clone Haven Discord Server. I’m assuming you like clonecest and there is even an area where people can talk about abo. It’s a very clone-centric server and we’d love to have more people.
> 
> https://discord.gg/zZsVuntr9h  
> [ Also a link to the Discord just in case ](https://discord.gg/zZsVuntr9h)

Waking up with his bare back against his riduur's chest, fuzz tickling his skin, was usually a welcome experience and it was initially. Jesse's hand was settled on his hip as he lightly kissed his nape in order to wake him up. Kix could practically hear the smirk on Jesse's face when he shivered awake and whimpered. Clearly, the noise did something to Jesse because he could feel a hard cock running against the back of his thighs.

He could go for another round: get lost in his husband for just a bit longer. Tup had everything covered in the medbay. Kix trusted him and his few days of training enough in his hazy state (impulse was the norm for his recovery from being sleep-deprived). He couldn't exactly make rational decisions yet. He kind of still wanted Jesse to fuck another baby into him right at that moment...

Kix was conscious enough to realize that was a bad move, whining when Jesse's hands traveled down to his abdomen and teased about moving deeper. They couldn't do that yet as much as he wished to. The wait would hopefully make the payoff even more sweet and precious.

But, he still didn't feel like getting out of the bunk. Jesse was nice and warm, the comfort of his embrace was enticing. Kix didn't want to leave or properly get out of his slumber. He yearned to cuddle with his riduur for a couple of days and do nothing else besides taking in Jesse's love. Love that could take any form they desired to act on.

He was sappy and he was tired: a terrific combination which had once resulted in Coyote.

Kix should've slept about four days earlier, so he would've been more lucid at least. Slightly deprived in the sleep department, but it would have been less noticeable and more manageable.

However, maybe being lucid would have been terrible because he definitely felt too aware when he opened his eyes and made eye contact with the figure in the middle of the barracks.

You see the problem with not registering anything besides the feeling of his husband's heat against him was that he didn't notice when the door to the barracks had been opened or the footsteps that followed. Jesse hadn't taken notice either as he was far too preoccupied with marking every inch of Kix's neck and coaxing out soft moans. Kix was more than willing to provide the sound.

Therefore, Kix was sadly the first person to realize that General Skywalker was in the room.

He was making intense eye contact with his general.

His boss.

While naked.

With his husband behind him.

Also naked.

Clearly having just recently had sex.

He had moaned in front of him.

Multiple times.

He was currently moaning.

Which wasn't exactly the way Kix had imagined breaking the news to their general, but it was pretty close. It was better than the anticipated scenario of Skywalker walking in on them while Jesse was buried deep into Kix as he teased Jesse with a "nar dralshy'a" (a common phrase during their alone time.). This was better in so many ways; being naked was preferable to watching Kix get demolished by his enthusiastic husband. Skywalker seemed vanilla, so Kix didn't know how he would've reacted.

Honestly, what the hell was he doing in the empty barracks? Well, they weren't empty, but Skywalker shouldn't have known that. There was no reason for him to be there that Kix could think of with his just-woken-up brain.

The medic almost felt pity because the poor kid was getting a bit redder every time his eyes almost went below Kix's waist. It wasn't like the general hadn't seen him naked before, but there was a definite difference between the showers and this. A difference that the general would most likely get used to as all the 501st clones did. The reaction was akin to a shiny's, yet Kix understood they all grew numb to stumbling in on the resident couple.

Regardless of all that, there was something in the way Skywalker's eyes darted down to his hands before returning to Kix. It was quite telling, so Kix let go of the awkward gaze for just a moment so that he could glimpse what Skywalker was worried about.

Two items were in separate hands: a helmet grasped in metal and a holoprojector firmly, almost hidden, in the other. It was simple enough to guess which was the diversion and which was the reason. Kix had forgotten that General Skywalker hadn't been able to communicate with his wife for quite some time, so it made the most sense that he would be trying to reach her. It reminded him of how Jesse and he were desperately holding onto the time they would be able to talk to their son.

It was just that their general had atrocious timing.

Upon further inspection, that helmet was absolutely Rex's. The blue jaig eyes were an obvious indication and, of course, no one else "knew" about the general's marriage except for Rex. He was probably helping Skywalker hide the comm call with a lame excuse of why he would be in the barracks. Force, they were both idiots. It was a miracle the battalion was able to do even basic tasks with them in charge.

Speaking of idiots in charge.

"The General is here," Kix whispered to his riduur with a confidence that made it seem like he wasn't making direct eye contact (He hadn't blinked in a while and he didn't know if he would let him.). He needed Jesse to stop biting and sucking on his neck because he didn't think he could conceal the hickeys with how far up he was going. Kix loved having the claims on him, but they had to be respectable at times. They had to set an example.

The comment stopped Jesse for about a moment and Kix could hear how stunted the general's breathing was. Kix speculated the combination of his own relationship possibly being found out and finding out about his men's relationship was making his brain implode. It was almost concerning how frigid his general was as he stared at Kix, trembling just barely that it came off as static. He didn't know why Jesse couldn't feel the energy in the room that was making his head dance and swirl.

The hopeful medic got caught in the blue of his eyes, a swirling sea so much like Kamino's that trapped all in its waters. It felt as kind and welcoming as the ocean had been when he had glimpsed over the edge and pushed himself forward. He felt lighter the further he fell into the gaze and he almost didn't want to leave. A pleasant heat had filled his body to replace the cold of the rain, festering in his stomach before spreading out to cover him entirely. The touch of his mate against his back and middle had become mere murmurs the more he got trapped in the depths. It was as if his wish had come true and he had hit the water exactly as planned, everything instantaneous and unreachable. No time for regrets. He only had time for what he yearned for most.

The line of sight was broken with a, "Are you going to stand there or are you going to join us?"

The medic softly shook his head as the trance was broken, closing his eyes to make sure it wouldn't restart. He didn't desire to be reminded of how his general was a child of the Force again. It was more invasive than he was used to and there was still this growing warmth inside of him that wouldn't leave. He forgot it soon enough, but ignorance couldn't make it go away.

Kix was going to hit his riduur for the question he had asked their general. He did end up jabbing him in the stomach with his elbow which resulted in a low hiss and Jesse biting his shoulder in revenge. Honestly, it was a shock that they had been able to hide their relationship this long with how they acted.

Though, the offer toward General Skywalker wasn't completely unfounded. Having sex with a Jedi had been on their bucket list since they were deployed. Kix would be lying if he said this exact scene wasn't like the beginning of a terrible HoloNet porno or a trashy romance novel about the war effort (General Kenobi seemed open to clone-fucking, so he might ask if Cody would allow Jesse and him to borrow his boyfriend for a bit. Might be the first time Kenobi has topped in a while because Kix knew Cody had refused to bottom ever since the whole Rako Hardeen fiasco. Cody might not know the real reason why he was so adamant, but Kix couldn't allow himself to forget something so crucial. Helix, the head 212th medic, couldn't either.).

"Sir, why are you in the barracks?" Jesse nipped at his throat with each syllable, pulling him closer to his chest as Kix spoke.

He couldn't control himself from asking such an obvious question. For some reason, he wanted to see how embarrassed he could make the general without getting Force-choked. He rarely got this taken off guard and it was kind of hilarious. Kix didn't think he would've been this red if he had been more prepared. He did look amazing with a nice blush on his face that Kix bet spread everywhere. Maybe that's why Padmé liked him.

It wasn't because of his ability to give good excuses. General Skywalker mumbling, "Rex broke something on his helmet," in shock while weakly bringing the helmet forward was one of the weakest excuses Kix had ever seen. It was like he had never lied before in his life and Kix knew that couldn't be farther from the truth. Truly, one of his general's worst performances, and he didn't believe it for a second. Kix was the chief medic of the 501st, one of the most reckless battalions, and he had heard it all, but he was always getting impressed by how low some of his men were willing to go for secrets (Kix was a bit of a hypocrite, but at least he could conceal his secrets effectively.).

That didn't stop Kix from placing his hand on top of Jesse's, intertwined on his stomach, and squeezing to signal that they should leave. They should respect the general's desire to speak with his wife. They knew a thing or two about sneaking off to holocomm someone they loved.

He couldn't tell if the general was thankful for them getting out of the bunk to get dressed in front of him or not, but he was able to stop blushing after both men had covered up. The way he glanced at Kix's neck told him that Jesse hadn't bothered to think ahead about how visible his marks would be.

The brief kiss they shared after getting their armor on was purposeful and slightly mean-spirited while also being soft. Jesse had slipped an arm around his waist while jokingly touching his belly. Kix couldn't wait until it was real, but he did have the general's reaction to look forward to. He didn't appear to be disgusted by them which was good, just shocked. Some natborns were way too sensitive for Kix's taste. He was glad his general wasn't because he would've lost every shred of respect for him.

They were going to be more coupley now that the general knew. There was a silent agreement of not holding back that they were married (except in front of certain natborns.). Being the first clone relationship the general had acknowledged was thrilling. He couldn't wait for him to find out how many of his troopers had been together. It might be less shocking the second time around.

The couple was trying to get out before the onslaught of questions began about their relationship. They could answer them later when they were more awake, but right now didn't seem like the most appropriate time with what happened and what the general had set out to do. They scurried past General Skywalker quick enough for Kix to get a quick word in before they escaped.

"If you and Rex ever need the barracks to yourselves, just ask," Kix exclaimed over his shoulder, clearly hinting at something more. Jesse chuckled lightly when Kix winked back at their boss. Embarrassing Skywalker was his revenge for him interrupting their free time. He would get over it.

Also, it was a good cover so that he didn't suspect that they knew his actual romance was with Senator Amidala. This was preferable. It would be fun to see how Rex would react to the general telling him what happened or if the general would even do that. He might hide it out of shame.

It took all his self-control to not burst out laughing at Skywalker's horrified gape at the suggestion. Even more self-control at Rex and General Kenobi's surprised looks when they came out of the barracks. He guessed Rex and General Skywalker were about to head off to Skako Minor.

He prayed they found Echo alive. Tup didn't need or deserve to witness his husband break.

\-----

There is this weird sensation of being halfway through life and death that few could truly understand. Of being dead in nearly every imaginable way, but knowing that somewhere there was a heart still beating in the husk of your body. It had submitted to this reality months ago. Endless thoughts that were virtually another's running through its head until it didn't know what it was anymore. The line between "it" and "he" disappeared until he became the metal that they used to erase and damn him.

Sometimes he was lucid enough to wish for true death.

He tried countless times to reach out to the brothers that were beckoning him on. The brothers he hadn't seen in so long, it felt like decades since he had been taken, were calling for him. Their voices were reminiscent of the life he had hoped for as a cadet that had decayed with him. He wanted to join Droidbait, Cutup, and Hevy, but the Techno Union had made it clear that it wasn't his time yet. Any attempt to end it all was an opportunity to replace more of what made him human until there would be nothing left.

He didn't know if that was a future event or if it had already happened.

There were too many numbers and too much data in his mind at all times that the trooper, the human part, had been shoved out. No space in the already cramped room. There was just a smidge of relief from his past life over the Techno Union not using him for a specific purpose: breeding. He didn't know if that would have been preferable to the scenario he was in, but, according to the numbers, a life of being used as broodmare would've been...

No. _Stop that._

He wasn't supposed to do that anymore. He was supposed to be back to normal. Being off Skako Minor was supposed to be his new start, but his head felt so empty. It needed to be filled with random thoughts and statistics and percentages and figures. The quiet was frightening and dark thoughts lingered. He had hoped the trooper would come back after space had been made, but the change had been permanent. They weren't coming back. All they left behind was the guilt.

There was this fear of being alive again that he didn't want to address. He was afraid they would realize that they had taken the wrong person. The trooper they were searching for had died a long time ago and they only found his corpse. They would only be disappointed the more they were with him.

He loathed that he couldn't automatically go back to normal as soon as he was in Rex's arms. He wanted to be able to only see his captain, his friend, instead of a possible obstacle that needed to be observed for the best possible route of termination to be determined. He wished to be able to look at people without deducing how to kill them in the most effective way possible while eliciting the desired amount of pain.

When they found out he was just a monster who had led to the death of their vode and that there was nothing else inside of him, they would throw him aside. He didn't even remotely look like who he once was, just the rotten body left behind.

Force 99 had nothing to base his character on. Their distrust was comforting and he didn't have to fake everything in front of them. No one should trust or like him after what he had done. It was exhausting, but he had this urge to be better and more like his old self around Rex. He didn't care as much for General Skywalker as he did for the captain.

He didn't even know if he was faking it all. There were times where his laughter or joy or the soft looks he aimed at Rex when he wasn't looking were real. Yet, something was informing him it was only a copy of who Rex had hoped would fall into his arms when he opened the casket. His mind was fuzzy and the lack of conclusive results was bothering him.

He wasn't programmed for this. He had never...the percentage of...the numbers... Escaping had never been a possibility, yet it had happened. He had anticipated and prepared for death, and no matter how much he lied he was in shock. Thoughts of it being a hallucination or simulation conducted by the Techno Union were far more likely, yet he understood it was real.

Rex couldn't be faked like this.

The sincerity he felt as he leaned against his past captain was nothing that could be fabricated. Being on Force 99's ship wasn't that different from past experiences where they had stood for hours on ships: resting his head against Rex's shoulder, the one lacking a pauldron, after the offering had become too good to pass up. Everything seemed to be better as he took in Rex's company. The percentages were taking over, but it was easier to deal with when Rex was at his side. The desire for his head to be filled and the release of death to be found softly went away for a few moments. Peace was comfortable during their return to Fort Anaxes.

The leaning was something he was usually teased for in a way similar to how he had been prodded and poked because of the handprint on his destroyed armor. The sentiment was clear and he could still detect the remnants of the crush he had when he was still alive: back when he was still a shiny.

He could practically see himself being made fun of for being so lovestruck. His brother had always been-

There it was. The reason he was stuffing his mind full of useless thoughts until it hopefully collapsed.

Fives hadn't been there at all during the entire escape and he knew what that meant. His fear of the truth was nauseating: Fives was gone. There was this clash between acceptance and denial inside of him, but he couldn't deny the facts. Fives would've been there on Skako Minor. Nothing could have stopped Fives from being there. He had been on the receiving end of a sorrowful gaze when Rex thought he wouldn't notice.

How could he bear a glimpse of him when he was like this? Bear through the feeling of his body against his? He couldn't even dare to peek in horror of what he would see. He didn't want to see a damaged copy of his twin in the mirror.

It all led to one thing and the percentages were going haywire, whispering and taunting him. The possibility of the statistics being biased was a thought he never would have entertained. It was treason to his precise and perfect work, but manipulation could always occur. He was more accurate than a droid, yet imperfection wasn't one to care about how precise someone usually was.

He left Fives behind. Fives had died thinking he was dead: thinking he would finally be reunited with their whole squad in the Manda. He couldn't believe he had left him. He didn't want to believe it.

There was still a bit of meaningless hope inside of him, but that would be dashed later when the facts became too persistent and he gave back into the process he was used to. For now, he would let himself absorb the heat Rex was projecting. Rex wasn't just serving as stability. There was this cold running in his body. With virtually no fat or muscle to insulate heat along with the metal inserted directly into three of his appendages, the frigid feeling made a lot of sense. A slight raise of his skin and the added blue to his already tinged lips wasn't for the best. There was a definite increase in heat when Rex wrapped an arm around him after he shivered.

He didn't wish to leave the embrace even after they had arrived at the fort, still leaning against Rex as they exited the ship. Even when they were off the ship and in the open, he couldn't sense Fives. All he could see were the appropriate responses of disgust and confusion from passersby which quickly went away when they noticed Captain Rex was in the vicinity.

Things hadn't changed in the world around him. It went on without him. It didn't need him. The Techno Union should have just killed him, but there was a bit of a spark to continue when he noticed someone he used to know. Not everyone was lost.

Kix was near the end of the ramp Rex and him were coming down, the medical officer meant to deliver him to the medbay. He had already ambushed Wrecker who had left the ship a few minutes before while Rex waited for him to get used to light on Anaxes. The ship was a bit darker and his eyes were still not accustomed to being utilized this often. They felt a bit strained, but he was trying to act like it was fine. Some of his act was slipping through the cracks. He hoped Rex didn't uncover all of it.

It was nice to see Kix again and nice to see Wrecker in a new environment (easier to find out his weaknesses...no... _stop_ ). The sight of the two of them reminded him of how much luck was involved in Kix never going near his dick (He was glad the Techno Union didn't get rid of that at least.). Wrecker came off as if he had no idea what Kix was doing, but also that he might just be playing ignorant. There were times where he smirked and shamelessly gripped Kix's hips to bring him closer. Kix was running his hands along the muscle of Wrecker's arms and batting his lashes and delivering compliments while his eyes were half-lidded. Wrecker relaxed the longer Kix talked to him. If he hadn't recognized the flirting, his instincts had. It was a sight to see and so much like Kix. The familiarity was welcome.

It was even more welcome when he realized that Jesse was on the side of Wrecker farthest from him, pressing himself closer to the bigger clone. Crosshair didn't seem pleased by the show, but Tech and Hunter looked decently amused. He would've been too if it hadn't been that he noticed Jesse's armor and Kix's vambrace. Kix's vambrace was noticeably grey on the underbelly instead of the dirtied white and it wasn't hard to see the pauldrons and kama Jesse was now sporting.

In the absence of an ARC trooper, it was to be expected that Rex would find another. Who was Jesse replaced? Fives or him? Either way, he was excited Jesse had received this honor and was alive. He had been more close to his brother, but the couple was always there when he needed them. They were amazing and reliable friends.

Truly another indication of how some things had remained the same: the loyalty and kindness of Rex, the integrity of Jesse, and the undeniable truth of Kix being a whore.

General Skywalker seemed perplexed by the sight, but it lessened when he realized Jesse was hanging on Wrecker's other arm. With how blunt it all was, he must have finally figured out that the riduure were together. It took him a ridiculous amount of time to find that out, but the effort was noted. He could still recall faintly when the two had been married and how the Domino twins had snickered when Skywalker asked what was happening during the riduurok. No one had translated for him, but Fives did explain to Commander Tano what was happening (except for the part where a drunk Hardcase went up to give a speech where he described their sexual exploits in graphic detail).

He was usually once to remain unnoticed, but he had no choice in getting a word out. It was the best way to move forward according to his calculations, so he settled with a light tease aimed at Kix to grab his attention.

"I forgot how you flirt with anything that moves," he joked as Rex and he hit the end of the ramp, Kix taking notice of him for the first time in over a year. His voice was still a bit hoarse, but that didn't stop Kix from recognizing it.

Kix's attention diverted from Wrecker and Jesse as he turned toward his lost vod to grin at him, "I forgot how you're no fun."

"I am a delight," he chuckled, but it turned into a deep cough that he covered with his intact hand. He hadn't laughed that much in a long time. There was concern etched in Rex as he looked over at him and loosened his grip so as not to constrict him more. He missed the warmth, but it was an understandable loss. The thing was that he didn't know if the words or laughter were genuine, and that was far more important than him being disappointed in Rex handing him over to Kix.

Kix kissed Jesse on the cheek and Wrecker a wink before joining his side for the transfer. The rest of Force 99 didn't waste the opportunity to point out that Wrecker was a blushing mess. He also found it funny seeing such an intimidating and large man just melt because of Kix. 

Soon enough Kix and he were beginning their trip to the medbay. He wished Rex would also go, but he understood he was busy. Kix had given a brief, "See you in a bit," to his husband before they started moving and it was very calming seeing them being open about their relationship.

He both appreciated and didn't appreciate the questioning stares that were directed towards him and the amount of noise on the Fort was overwhelming. From wheels turning to the feet stomping in unison, it made what little of a stomach he had churn.

The best option was to distract him, so he asked Kix a question to shove into the silent noise of his head, "So Jesse is an ARC trooper now?" He knew the answer already, but he needed to go back to being numb or neutral. He didn't like feeling now. It was better when Rex or Fives were there, but there were both gone. One more permanent than the other.

Kix gave a smug and proud smile, thumbing the grey of his vambrace, "He's a lieutenant."

"How's Coyote?"

He didn't want to give up on the conversation just yet.

Kix had a subtle movement of his lips upwards at the mention of his son that revealed how sad he was about the distance. It wasn't enough sadness to signal that the child had passed (he also knew Kix wouldn't be alive if Coyote wasn't) and that was preferred. He could comprehend how Kix didn't have any other children, but that he still wished for more based on how his hand briefly passed over his stomach but didn't settle on it. He just wanted Kix to be happy. The older clone had always been so kind to him despite Fives pushing his buttons.

He didn't like how thinking about Fives made him feel. It was more than he had anticipated without Rex being there. It made everything a lot louder than he wished for it to be and it took away the control of his mind for a bit. For a moment, Kix was CT-6116 and he was only informing his superior about CT-53-1286.

"Coyote is doing good. We'll be able to holocomm him after the stay on Anaxes is over, but he's grown a lot since you last saw him. He looks more and more like Jesse as a cadet every time we see him. He's the top of his batch and I can tell he will be so much better than us already. I couldn't be prouder, but it's weird seeing my baby grow up." By the end, Kix was Kix again and not his number. He was slightly more bubbly and his eyes more bright after gushing about his son. Maybe Kix’s eyes were shinier because of the tears he was wiping away.

"Hardcase?" He queried, but he regretted it after Kix's face turned dark. He should've known better than to say that. Hardcase had been like their third partner and, based on the reaction, he had passed. The percentages wondered what could have possibly taken him down and how effective it would be in another incident. He shoved that done because Kix would notice something was wrong. He wasn't as emotionally stunted as the rest.

"Marched on," Kix answered after a pause, "A lot has happened while you were gone. I'll make sure to catch you up." Kix respected that he had the right to know, but he didn't know if Kix realized that he wasn't that person anymore. Hopefully, he wouldn't.

People were looking as much when they entered the medbay. He just appeared like any other debilitating patient to the medics moving around with the grace of someone used to the routine and path of the space. Most of the vode in the room were out cold and it was far more silent than the outside. The sterilized smell was also a lot less overwhelming than the stench of war and people. He was enjoying this medbay a lot more than the one the Techno Union had.

However, there was one brother who wouldn't stop staring at him from the corner of the room as they put away supplies and it worried him. Did he see through the veneer? There was a newly-painted medic symbol, red over a dollop of blue. The paint was not remotely scratched which showed it had just been applied. The eyes of the younger medic had been drawn to Kix and him as soon as they entered before focussing in on him. They appeared to have just been deployed, but their gaze was alert and had an endurance a shiny wouldn't have.

The Kaminoans probably lowered the deployment age in his absence and the old him would've been disgusted by that. This vod shouldn't even be out serving in the medbay yet, but here he was looking at him with such a recognition that his spine crawled. There was a black teardrop below his right eye (he wondered who he was mourning) that was reflected in the covered up shoulder plate design on his left shoulder. He had his hair down in soft, gentle curls that seemed to sway as he stared at the newcomer. The locks were longer than Hunter's and very much against regulations, but he was far from any patient so Kix wouldn't bring it up. The vod'ika also had a hair tie around both of his wrists, so he was prepared for the inevitable.

The intensity of the stare was getting to him, but then the brother glanced away, a blush on his cheeks and a wince going through him (a strange reaction). Maybe he was just studying him. Medics were often like that around brothers who were physically different. Echo hadn't truly seen himself, but he detected the metal on his chest, stomach, head, appendages, and neck that made him more droid than human. It also wasn't hard to feel how concave his torso was.

"Who's he?" The lost trooper whispered as they went further back into the medbay.

Kix glanced over to where he was eyeing and hummed, "Tup is the new medic for Torrent."

"Finally replacing Coric?" Coric and Jesse had been some of the few survivors of the original Torrent Company back when Kix was just a 501st Medic. There had been a few medics in Torrent over his time there, but all of them had marched on except Kix. Even if the kid had been disconcerting, he hoped he didn't join the previous medics.

"Promoting him to Sergeant was a stupid decision," Kix huffed as he crossed his arms, "Kamino is no longer training or deploying medics, so I'm training him."

It was decisions like that which made him think the Republic either wanted to lose or had stopped caring about the war. Kix nodded in solidarity when confusion crossed and scrunched his brows.

Kix practically pushed him into the examination table when they arrived at their destination: the back area where droids were stored. It was far enough away from anyone else that, if he went crazy, he wouldn't cause any harm. Kix had always been the realist of the bunch and it was a smart contingency plan. There was a high probability that he would lose it.

However, he questioned Kix's sanity when he turned to leave him alone and not at all guarded.

"Where are you going?" He sounded a lot more breathless and desperate than he meant to come off as based on the look of pity Kix sent his way. He didn't care that much because the thought of being left alone made everything feel like it was closing in on him. The thoughts became crowded again and suffocating and he wanted it all to stop. He had to restrain himself from covering his ears to hinder the noise.

Kix sighed, seeming to almost remember how broken his old friend was, "You showed up in the middle of my break. The new medic is going to check up on you as training and the droids were going to deal with your prosthetics anyway." The middle part sounded weird to him. If it was only for training, Kix would still be there. Yet, why would Kix lie about this?

It didn't make him less uncomfortable as he watched Kix slowly fade into the background and smell and silence of the medbay. Being around someone new could either be disastrous or preferable. The probability was pretty split and seeing the new medic had put a few points in their favor.

None of his numbers had prepared him for the possibility of the new medic practically sprinting into the area he was being held, out of breath somehow. He had slowed himself by grabbing the door frame as he entered and that was a little too much excitement for him. He kind of wished he had been allowed to descend further into the metal of a shutdown droid in the back. It was calming.

"Echo?" Tup, as Kix had called him, breathed out heavily with relief. This relief was aimed at Echo, at him, and it felt odd hearing his name fall on his lips.

He also didn't predict that Tup would go straight for a hug as soon as he was close enough to the examination table. He could feel the water on his shoulder as Tup let go of the tears he had been building up since first seeing Echo. The hug was too suffocating, but the warmth was a lot like Rex's. Too many pros and cons, and it had made him go stock-still in his contemplation.

He was able to relax a bit when Tup pulled away and settled down next to him on the examination table. He was quite sheepish, sitting on his hands for a moment after he had dried his tears. Both of them were centering themselves.

"Sorry. I guess I never actually...um...met you. I'm Tup," the younger offered a hand, now out from under him, as he bit his lip. Echo glanced at his hand with too much hesitation, so Tup continued, "It's a weird name. I know." He said the statement like he was used to people pointing it out, almost like an inside joke with an awkward delivery. Echo had heard worse names than his.

Echo hadn't experienced pity in a while, only been on the receiving side, so he took the offered hand with the nonmetal one. It was a rough, unusual handshake because neither of them were using their dominant right hand as he introduced himself, "I'm Echo." It didn't sound like he was that convinced over his name and the kid already knew who he was.

That was his name. _Echo_. He needed to remember that.

After the rigid shake, Tup had nervously tapped his hands against his lap. Echo could deduce he wanted to say something based on how his legs swayed and the intensifying speed of the taps.

"I've heard so much about you," his voice stuttered out and the tapping stopped, his hands clenching against his thigh gauntlets. Tears were sliding down cheeks much like his tattoo, his head tilted a bit away from Echo in shame. Echo could still feel the damp part of his shoulder and he let that presence take the wheel instead of letting his inner voice interrogate Tup (How had he heard about him? Who? What was it about? What did he learn? Could it be used against him?). The kid was innocent and it would probably freak him out.

"Are...are you crying?" He reached forward in concern (that seemed like something Echo would do), but Tup backed away from the touch. Echo would have thought he was afraid of him if it wasn't for the smile.

"It's hormones," Tup sniffled as he brought a strand of hair behind his ear, "They really did a number on you. They stole all of your melanin. Your eyes are really pretty though. They're golden. Reminds me of my batchmate. Shorter like him too and-" The abrupt stop was followed by Tup smacking himself mentally for making a bad impression, but, of course, Echo wouldn't have guessed that.

"Thank you?" Echo couldn't process all the information with how fast and loud Tup was rambling. The words fought with the voices inside of his head. It was giving him a massive headache: pounding and thudding as he tried to absorb the information. He caught the last part though. The Techno Union had made him just a bit shorter than he already was when they replaced his calves and it honestly made him extremely pissed off (it would've made Echo mad). He had already been short enough as it was, but that centimeter was his breaking point.

Tup was tearing up again (What was he doing wrong?) but this time was more bittersweet, "Fives missed you so much."

"Fives," Echo choked out, having to stop himself from joining Tup in crying. He didn't even know if he was hydrated enough to cry. The probability was all adding up. He wanted to ignore it, but everything was pointing toward Fives being dead.

"Who do you think told me about you? We got married about two months ago."

Tup gave him his right hand, something Echo had overlooked when shaking his left and noticing his hair ties earlier. The armor covering the back of his hand was naturally darker than the rest; it was grey painted with blue instead of the usual white. This was Fives' armor, the armor of Tup's riduur. If it wasn't for the tattoo not being recent, Echo would've guessed it was a mourning tattoo for his husband's passing. Mourning tattoos or armor designs were fairly common.

He was too young to be a widower but such was the way of war. It didn't mean he wanted it happening to his family.

_Force, Tup was family._

Echo wished he had been there to tease Fives on his crush on a shiny like Fives had teased him about Rex. He wished he had seen them get married, been there to fake gag as they gazed lovingly at each other, and been there to see them meet while having no idea that the shiny would be his brother's future partner. All he would know was that this youthful medic with a teardrop on his face and his hair down in beautiful waves had caught his brother's eye more than anyone else. Not the why or how, only that he did.

That felt like what Echo would be concerned about. He was faking that. Why would he care? He was just trying to pass. That's all.

"Right before Anaxes," Echo breathed out, trying not to sound completely broken, "You two moved fast." He needed to be strong for Tup.

But, his mind was screaming because he couldn't deny that it was his fault. He killed Fives. His brother was dead and it had happened on Anaxes. He knew when they had arrived on Anaxes and there was no way he hadn't died anywhere else. The numbers said so. The Techno Union should've killed him. Why did they let him live? Why did this guilt and emotion feel genuine?

Tup was not sensing his turmoil (which was good for Echo, not him, because he didn't want to see him stressed). Tup only smirked at his statement, "You have no idea...actually."

He softly touched the cushion on his stomach and smiled (a type of smile he had seen on Kix when talking about his son) before asking Echo for permission to take his hand. Echo accepted by putting his hand in Tup's as he brought his palm to the flexible cushion. It was tight against his hand as if the cushion was being pushed against more than it should be. It was constricting against something, but Tup appeared average in size and weight if not a little on the tall side.

Echo was already freezing up in shock when the sole possibility hit him and Tup hadn't even announced all the news yet.

"You're going to be a ba'vodu to two baby girls and a baby boy," Tup was so sweet and joyous in his delivery, but Echo couldn't breathe.

Echo had been the one to take away his husband. His friend. The father of his children. _Fives was going to be a father._ Yet, in his eyes, there was no hatred or disgust, only happiness in meeting the brother of the man he loved. Tup was too good for this family.

"They trust me around you?" Echo broke his hand off Tup's stomach. There was so much fear and confusion in his tone it almost was genuine. They shouldn't trust an algorithm around a pregnant vod.

"I trust you," and with that Tup had somewhat fixed him. He had a goal now.

Echo pulled him into an embrace (much better when he was the one to initiate it), lightly petting and running his fingers through his hair. Tup purred into his shoulder as he murmured, "I'm so sorry. Ni ceta."

"What for?" Tup snickered, snuggling more into Echo's touch. The response made Echo tense up. Had he been forgiven? Did Tup even understand the atrocities he had committed? Either way, Echo now had a duty.

"I'll be there for you and your ade." He meant every word. Besides the armor on his hand or the babies in his belly, Echo was the last bit of Fives he had. He wasn't going to be the one to take that away from Tup. He was going to protect every remaining piece of Fives to the best of his ability.

It was what the real Echo would've done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated :)

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr is @zoinkssc00b


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